


The Lady or The Tiger

by Kai_99



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Clarice, F/F, F/M, Jealousy, M/M, Memory Palace, Mind Palace Will, Murder, Obsession, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:22:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25126174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kai_99/pseuds/Kai_99
Summary: It's been more than one year since the infamous Chesapeake Ripper, Hannibal Lecter, surrendered everything for the man he loves in hopes of making Will realize that they can not survive separation. But when Hannibal gets the news of Will's wedding, rage and jealousy force him to take a different path than he intended.__Canon divergence after episode 7 of season 3.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Jack Crawford/Allegra Pazzi, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Molly Foster
Comments: 26
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

Hannibal Lecter does not do well with boundaries. Confines of closed and narrow spaces have always made Hannibal feel uncomfortable. It’s the one thing that he cannot conceal despite how much guarded he keeps his emotions, and it annoys the fuck out him. He always knew a day would come when he would be forced in a cage and he had plans to get himself out of there as soon as possible. He can still set those plans in motions by just one call. But he won’t, because he had gone and fallen in love with a man who doesn’t want to think about him. Who doesn’t want to find him, doesn’t want to know where he is and what he does.

Cruel, utterly cruel – for he cannot think about anyone else but Will Graham.

Hannibal awakes with thoughts of Will and Will is the last thing that drifts in his mind before he let sleep take him. Hannibal can’t even escape in his mind palace from the thoughts of Will; it is tainted by the sensation of Will’s touch, by the smell of his creamy skin, by his semblance. The Will in his mind palace is extremely rude and downright obnoxious, nothing like the real Will. A part of Hannibal is thankful for that variation because otherwise, he might never leave his mind palace.

It is rather embarrassing that a man who claimed to never need the company of another is now yearning – _begging_ – for just a sight of his Will. Hannibal never had any chance, did he? From the first moment he laid his eyes on Will, Hannibal knew what he felt for Will Graham is something he has never hoped he would feel after his sister’s death.

Hannibal had not wanted a lover then, he had wanted a toy to use. He wanted to manipulate Will so he could have a foothold in FBI and dispose of the younger man when he had run out of his usage.

But what Hannibal didn’t predict was the depth of his feeling for the boy.

It was love that made Hannibal change his decision to kill Will when the boy got close to discover his identity and instead sent him to prison. It was love that kept his hand from plunging the knife deeper in Will’s gut that night in his kitchen. It was love that drove Hannibal to try to eat Will, so he could keep a part of Will with him in that way. It was love that made him decide to spare Alana Bloom's life in exchange for saving Will from Muskrat farm.

Hannibal was so _sure_ that Will would come with him that night, so foolish to think that his cruel boy would not plunge the knife in his heart.

Oh, how much Hannibal had wanted to snap Will’s neck right then and there when Will rejected him.

But it was love that made him walk out of the house silently and tell Chiyoh what he is planning to do. She objected, naturally, but when it became clear that he won’t be persuaded otherwise she promised to look after him even in a cage.

It was love that ultimately brought the infamous Chesapeake Ripper to his knees, literally, giving up his freedom and putting his life at the mercy of the man he loves.

Love – such a mundane and platitudinous human emotion that makes his whole being _ache_ with want.

Often, Hannibal wonders if it would have been easier if he had just killed Will instead of letting the younger man sink so deep under his skin that the separation feels tantamount to tearing his own insides out now.

Whoever said that love is the purest form of soul at peace needs to book them self an appointment in Hannibal’s basement. Hannibal doesn’t feel _peaceful_ , not for one bloody second. And he hopes that Will is in as much agony as he is, riddled with pain so much that it consumes him day and night. Hannibal hopes that Will wakes up at night drenched in sweat, haunted by his absence. He hopes that Will is all alone in his little house so that he can know the anguish Hannibal feels when he is not with Will.

Hannibal's sole consolation is his drawings. He is allowed some sketching supplies but they are not very good in quality - he dearly misses his scalpel. Hannibal spends most of his time drawing Will to keep his memory fresh. He knows that Alana and few other psychiatrists have seen the drawings and he doesn’t like the thought that someone else got to see something that should be private but there's nothing to be done about that. 

Though it was obvious if Hannibal was ever apprehended he would be stripped of his luxuries and any sense of privacy, it still pains him. To lessen the ache of his lost life and everything he holds dear, Hannibal amuses himself with his favorite game of ‘what he would and wouldn’t give to have something’.

At this moment, Hannibal would give his left hand to make Alana Bloom shut the fuck up. Seriously, ever since she married Margot Verger, her head has gotten so big it’s a wonder she doesn’t get stuck in the doorways. Gone is the naïve woman with gentle demure and in her place is born a woman hungry for power and money.

Hannibal does his utter best to ignore her ranting and focus on the piece he is working on. It’s an altered version of _Torture of Prometheus_. Hannibal had drawn Alana instead of the man, an enormous eagle ripping open her torso, exposing bloody entrails. Her beautiful face resembles the same expression as the ones she makes right before she orgasms – except that one eye is gouged in the drawing. He knows Alana will most likely take away his sketching supplies when she sees the sketch but it will be worth seeing the horror and disgust on her face.

There’s no exact way to tell the time in this godforsaken place but if his estimate is correct it is way past her time to leave. She usually doesn’t stay much longer because he doesn’t answer her questions and when he does, he knows that Alana wished that he hadn’t. Hannibal can make her leave; all it will take is sharing some details of how Hannibal plans on cooking her wife’s organs. But unfortunately, he can’t resort to that method every time she annoys him, he won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that her taunting affects him as much as it does. Nor does he want her to get desensitized to his threats.

Hannibal can’t escape in his mind palace because his mind has apparently lost its ability to dissociate when he hears Will Graham’s name.

It’s Alana’s favorite subject to discuss. Hannibal might enjoy these conversations if Alana didn’t try to force him to talk about his _feelings_ towards Will Graham. A sore subject truly, something Hannibal himself doesn’t dare linger on too much. Hannibal knows that he is in love with Will Graham and he wants to be with Will. But that’s about it, he doesn’t know what actually these things entitle.

But Alana Bloom is hell bend on dissecting his feelings to the core. He doesn’t get what she is hoping to achieve - besides certifying his wrath. Hannibal does not like being reminded of his helplessness on Will-related matters.

Hannibal vaguely considers to just ask Alana to leave already so he can finish his work in peace ~~and get his emotions back under control after hearing how his friendship with Will has always been one sided – something that Alana Bloom wants to drill in his head~~ – but the clogging citrus smell of her excitement tells him that she is here with an agenda and won’t be leaving until she gets whatever she wants.

“You have been very well behaved, Hannibal. Our model patient.” The almost manic glee in her tone suggests that he is not going to like wherever this is going.

Hannibal has been ‘well behaved’, despite Alana being particularly _bitchy_ when she said that Will has moved on and has forgotten about him last week. It won’t do him any good if he killed the head of the institute. His privileges would be revoked, and Alana Bloom does not deserve a quick death, she would get to see the beast unrestrained. And besides, he won’t let the opportunity to savor her meat waste. Her death is inevitable, no power in this world will change that. Not even his dear will.

He is just adding finishing touches on his piece, making sure to show the agony and ecstasy clearly on her tortured face when she stands and walks to the side where the meal slot is located. She places something in there and takes a step back, waiting for him to approach.

“But you have not been making much progress in your therapy, Hannibal,” her concerned voice is contradicting her smug expression, “That is why I thought to bring you something that will help you along.”

Hannibal steps away from his desk and walks up to the slot, hands behind his back, a picture of composure even in a ratty jumpsuit. Judging from the weight of the package, it seems that it’s a letter. He wonders idly how Alana believe that whatever this is will help with his ‘recovery’.

“May I open this in private?” These are the first words that he has uttered since Alana came in here. Although he had conceded that she won’t grant him any privacy, it still irritates him when she refuses.

The seal is not closed deliberately, whoever sent it didn’t close it, meaning this didn’t came from the courier. And isn't that strange. Hannibal turns over the package to retrieve its content and discovers another envelope inside. This one is of better paper quality, off white color and a purple ribbon closing it with a delicate bow in front. This too has been opened and closed but it’s a fleeting thought. He is completely distracted when he realizes that this is an invitation.

Why would someone send him an invitation when he is institutionalized. He looks up at Alana and realizes that she is standing much nearer to the glass partition than she ever had and her eyes are fixed on his face as if greedy to absorb every minor expression on his face. He turns his attention back to opening the envelope, it opens to reveal the printed inside.

His attention is honed on the words ‘Will Graham’ almost immediately.

Hannibal prides himself that he can control his expressions and reactions in the most direst of situations, but the shock on his face when the rest of the words start making sense cannot be controlled. He composes his face immediately in a blank mask of indifference but the damage has been already done.

_It’s Will Graham’s wedding invitation._

For a minute, Hannibal doesn’t believe what he is seeing. He doesn’t want to believe this. He almost assumed that this is a cruel hoax from Alana. But Hannibal knows that even she is not _that_ stupid to pull a stunt like this on him.

Which leaves the second possibility that this is real, that his Will is really getting married to some Molly Foster.

This doesn’t make sense, Will never showed any interest in relationships much less a _wedding._ Will was attracted to Alana, but that was just that, attraction. Will didn’t even wanted kids of his own for Christ sake, then what’s so special about this Molly Foster that Will wants to spend the rest of his life with her.

A life that is arguably getting shorter and shorter by each passing second.

Feeling that he is staring at the invitation somewhat dumbly, Hannibal clears his throat to address his company, “I believe congratulations are in order for our dear Will. Would you be kind enough to forward my letter to Will, Doctor Bloom?”

“Of course.” Alana is all smiles like a cat who just got cream. Hannibal promises to himself that when he will eventually kill her, he’s going to carve a smile on her pretty face from ear to ear.

Making sure to show a hint of amusement on his face Hannibal says, “Since I have been nothing short of courteous would you let me attend the wedding? It would be rude not to.”

“I don’t think Will send the invitation so you could come. I think he just wants to show you that he can lead a happy life when he's not under your influence.”

This time Hannibal is in complete control of himself to not let the barb affect him - physically at least. He merely grins mockingly, “And what of Jack Crawford’s influence? I gather Agent Crawford was not very pleased of Will’s resignation.”

Hannibal knows that Will has resigned after his incarnation and the younger man would have moved far away to keep Jack from showing up on his doorstep every time a body drops.

“He was not, but thankfully, Will can make decisions about his welfare well enough now.”

“Evidently not well enough.” Hannibal deliberately adopts Jack’s tone and wording as he taps his finger against the invitation.

Hannibal is baiting Alana to slip enough to show what game she is trying to play. And it works when Hannibal see her eyes widen just a fraction at his carefully veiled threat, there’s also fear there – for Will’s safety he presumes – and surprisingly a hint of guilt. Interesting.

Not gracing Hannibal any response, Alana left silently, leaving the invitation with Hannibal. He takes it back to the desk with him and deposit it there with as much calmness as he could muster. His hand feels like it’s burning where he touched the offending paper.

Finally granted the privacy of his cell, Hannibal let his guard down and openly _sneers_ at the invitation. He is a bit ashamed to admit that he had considered for a minute to rip the invitation in pieces and ask Alana to tell Will to, as they say, shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.

Taking a deep breath, Hannibal once again focuses on the invitation and make some important deductions; the address and date of the wedding ceremony are blackened with a marker. Secondly, it doesn’t have the unique scent that he associates with Will. He can, however, detect the fresh scent of Alana’s preferred perfume and another – _much fader_ – flowery scent from someone’s hand lotion on the invitation.

Something about the whole thing doesn’t add up to Hannibal.

Maybe he is foolishly hoping that this is some elaborate game of Alana. But what he doesn’t understand is why she would tell him about Will’s wedding - if it's really true. Anyone with half a brain would have kept it hidden from Hannibal, surely Alana would not risk Will’s safety just to get a reaction out of him.

If this is, in fact, a ploy then Alana seriously undermines his ability to harm her and her family even from the walls of his cell. Maybe she needs a reminder that they didn’t catch The Chesapeake Ripper. _He_ _surrendered._

But if Will sent this –

For the sake of everyone – including himself – Hannibal really hopes that this invitation was not sent by William. Because Hannibal won’t be responsible for what he might do otherwise.

Hannibal feels nauseated with the rush of emotions he is feeling; anger, resentment, confusion, disbelief and an unhealthy dose of melancholy. He takes a few slow, deep breath, purging each emotion from his mind with each exhale until only anger is left, and he welcomes it. Because the alternative is feeling _cheated_ and he does not want that bloody experience on top of everything.

How dare Will leave him rotting in this cell for months without a word? How dare Will throw everything between them like it’s nothing and marry some woman who would never understand him, who would never _see_ him? How _dare_ Will send the fucking invitation knowing how he would feel?

Hannibal could make one phone call and dispose of Will's little fiancée. While Hannibal does not want anyone to know that he has that kind of influence, he is so tempted to do just that. Everyone would know who did it even if they might never be able to prove it. Maybe then Will would come to him.

_No._

No, Hannibal won’t be rash.

He would think and then he would make a decision. First of all, he needs to confirm that Will really is getting married – Hannibal doesn’t want to rule out any possibility yet - and whether Will sent the invitation or not. Which honestly doesn’t matter that much if the news is authentic.

Because Hannibal doesn’t plan on letting Will get married to some bitch and go on his merry way to fulfill his fantasy, domesticated life. Will would not only try to kill the part of himself that he loathes but also he would forget Hannibal and truly leave him for good.

Hannibal can’t let that happen. He is living in this hellhole and treated like filth because he does not want Will to forget him.

Will _belongs_ to Hannibal, served to him on a silver platter by Jack Crawford and Alana Bloom. And Hannibal decided to keep Will instead of breaking him, to show Will his potential, to give Will his love.

Will is not allowed to be someone else’s, Hannibal won’t let that happen no matter what. Even if he has to kill his Will to prevent that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, we all know it's canon that Hannibal is a jealous bitch and he would have done something sooner if he had known that Will is getting married. And this fic is just that.   
> I know Hannibal would never force himself on anyone but non-con is how I roll and I will try to make it as believable as I can. If you want I can mark before non-con scene start so you can skip that part. And tags will be added as the story progresses so please keep checking that.   
> Just remember that English is not my first language, so bear with me.   
> Thank you and have a nice day :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found a awesome beta [Spark_Fly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spark_Fly/pseuds/Spark_Fly), y'all doesn't have to suffer anymore ;)

If the emotional roller coaster Hannibal is going through was not enough to make his life miserable, Fredrick Chilton is now supervising his therapy sessions for a few days while Alana vacations with her family. On one hand, Hannibal is grateful that he won’t have to hear Alana vaunt about Will and his soon-to-be wife and what a happy couple they make. But on the other hand, he is stuck with Fredrick and his usual nagging. 

“Do you think I’m your nemesis?”

Hannibal scoffs at the term Frederick use. As if this pathetic man is of a caliber to be the nemesis of the Chesapeake Ripper.

“Nemesis? No.”

“You refuted every single article I have written about you.” The man all but shrills, waving the bundle of what Hannibal assumes are the said articles. If nothing else, at least Frederick never fails to provide an easy target to toy with.

“They didn’t hold up to scrutiny.”

“Of course they didn’t. I was lying. On your behalf, to save your life.”

Hannibal is under no allusion that Frederick lied for the sake of his life. Alana persuaded Fredrick to lie so she could keep Hannibal under her thumb when she took the job of the administrator of BSHCI, to watch him and satisfy herself that he couldn’t escape. 

“If you keep doing this you’ll refute your insanity defense.” 

Hannibal is almost impressed at the efforts Chilton puts into making him believe that the man genuinely cares about Hannibal, like he is not doing this for his own deteriorating fame. Nobody really considered Fredrick a respectable psychiatrist in their circle to begin with, and now that he is not even the head of BSHCI, nobody gives him a time of day. Hannibal lets Frederick Chilton and Freddie Lounds have fun with their books and articles about him, confident that he can take it away whenever he wants.

“I went out on a limb for you and you climbed up there and sawed it off.” If Hannibal could, he would saw off every limb from Chilton’s body one by one, just like he did to Abel Gideon.

“Wood burns because it has the proper stuff in it, and a man becomes famous because he has the proper stuff in him,” Hannibal doesn’t bother to hide his amusement as he continues, “You don’t have the proper stuff, Frederick.”

Frederick turns so red with frustration and rage it’s a wonder he didn’t have a stroke right there. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Frederick did; he all but threw a tantrum when he didn’t get invited to one of Hannibal's dinner parties. Hannibal, of course, disregarded him to get that reaction exactly.

This time, however, Frederick straightens his jacket to compose himself and Hannibal prepares himself to listen to yet another round of thinly veiled barbs, “The journals only still publish your writing for the freak value of your by-line. The attention given to you is dwindling, Hannibal. Nobody gives a damn about you anymore, not even your friends.”

Fredrick stresses the word ‘friends’ unnecessarily. It seems Alana is not the only one who wants to provoke him these days by mentioning his friends – everyone knows that there is only one man Hannibal has ever wanted to be friends with. He wonders again what Alana is gaining from all of this. Is there an ulterior motive, or does she simply want to gloat?

“I honestly didn’t peg you the kind of person to be so _desperate_ for friendship.” The scar on Fredrick’s cheek stretches as he smirks, giving his face a hideous appearance. 

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”

Hannibal knows that Fredrick will never in a million years understand the meaning of what he has just said, the one man who could is busy playing house with someone else, leaving him here to be humiliated by people like Chilton.

“This is the world your friend has created for you, Hannibal,” Chilton smugly gestures to his cells and rolls the articles together to push them through the holes in the glass wall that separates them, “After Dr. Bloom’s reign, you’ll be out in the ward like everyone else. No fancy cell and books there, you’ll get to read what you write on the walls. But I'll make sure to send you a copy of my new book. I'm naming it _Hannibal the Cannibal_ by the way.”

Hannibal’s face darkens with every word dripping from Chilton’s tongue, which Hannibal wants to rip out. If Fredrick knew what’s best for him, he would shut his mouth and leave right now, but his self-preservation instincts are even more dismal than his common sense.

Before Hannibal can respond an orderly comes and inform them a visitor is waiting to meet Hannibal in the hallway.

All thoughts of murder are thrown out the window as his heart races pathetically in hopes that Will Graham came to visit him.

The head orderly, Barney Mathews, enters the cell accompanied by two armed guards as Hannibal is instructed to be seated at his desk and chained to it. As Alana is not present the responsibility falls on Chilton’s shoulder to overlook the procedure, and Fredrick bitches and moans about how dangerous it is to allow Hannibal visitors in his cell. He demands to put Hannibal in a straitjacket and mask but Barney politely reminds Fredrick that Dr. Bloom has given no such instructions. Barney is one of the few people that treat Hannibal with respect at BSHCI, though Hannibal is sure fear is the primary motivating factor here.

Chilton finally leaves, making so much noise with his cane that Hannibal wishes to force it down his throat. Fredrick Chilton just made the top three in Hannibal’s to-maim-before-eating-list.

“Thank you, Barney.” Appreciation must be shown where it is deserving.

Barney smiles tightly and goes through the necessary process of reading him the rules that he must follow for the duration of the visit. The orderly leaves after gathering the pages Fredrick threw and piling them neatly on the table in the corner.

The guards follow suit after checking to make sure his cuffs are tight enough to dig into his wrists. Hannibal silently reads their name tags and mentally adds them to his ever-growing list of people he would kill after he got out of here.

Hannibal doesn’t turn when he hears the soft shuffling of his visitor’s feet as they enter the cell and the door locks behind them. He inhales subtly, taking in the smell of a rather expensive perfume that Will would never wear, and instantly Hannibal knows who this is. He tries to not be disappointed because he already suspected Will would not come but he had still hoped – especially after the letter he wrote to Will last week after getting the invitation. Hannibal watches as his visitor places a file in front of him and goes to stand on the opposite side of the table.

“Hello, Agent Starling.”

“Good afternoon, Dr. Lecter.”

“Please take a seat.” Hannibal offers, knowing she would keep standing if he didn’t ask her to sit, having put his theory to test in one of the previous visits. The young woman sits on the offered seat, smoothing down her clothes. She is wearing grey pinstriped wool streamline dress, flattering to her lean figure without making it look like she works hard to look good – unlike Alana and her ostentatious suits.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Clarice.”

“I came to let you know about the case we were working on.”

“What of it?”

“We caught the man, he did have a close relationship with the first victim. Just like you said.”

“Ah. Should I congratulate you then?” he asks with a small smile. He always find Clarice's visits so much enjoyable. 

“I think I should be the one thanking you. Without your help, we could not have saved the woman he was keeping hostage. Thank you.”

Hannibal tilts his head a little as he replies, “You asked for my help with your cases while intimating obligation. I can see why Agent Crawford sends you to me. You are ambitious, and manipulative.”

Clarice’s face twist into a scowl, “Dr. Fredrick has his own beliefs on why Agent Crawford send me here.”

It seems Fredrick had managed to get on Clarice’s nerves too today. Hannibal knows Clarice doesn’t get bothered by other people’s opinion, those opinions are made on her persona, not the real girl behind the mask. Fredrick must have said something truly crude to irk her.

Hannibal _almost_ wants to let Clarice have Chilton. He would be satisfied with the thought that Clarice would make sure Chilton gets what he deserves and more before she truly finishes him off. But it would draw unnecessary attention from the FBI. 

“Fredrick lacks the basic general mannerisms a man should possess. You should not care about whatever he said.”

“I know,” She sighs. 

“I must confess; I do regret letting Fredrick live. If only Miriam Lass had carried out her assignment with more accuracy.”

“The trainee who thought Fredrick Chilton is the Chesapeake Ripper?”

Hannibal makes an amused sound, she knows very well who Miriam Lass is and what he did to her. After all, she was the one who looked after Miriam when he was away. “The very same. Speaking of trainees, you must tell me, where does Jack Crawford keep finding such naïve little things to send my way?”

At first, Hannibal had refused to help Clarice until Alana reluctantly agreed to his condition that they allow Clarice into his cell – Jack may have a hand in pressuring Alana. He and Clarice have since moved past the initial skepticism and hostility that Hannibal Lecter should show toward an FBI agent, but every now and then he does poke and prod Clarice, to keep up appearances.

“Agent Crawford knows the price he has to pay to keep people safe.”

“He pays the price by sacrificing his lambs.”

“Some sacrifices are necessary, Doctor.”

Hannibal finds it very entertaining to watch Clarice play the role of the ambitious fresh-faced agent that she let everyone believe she is. Hannibal has always admired her cleverness but even he had not anticipated that he would see her under the alias of a young FBI trainee after he was incarnated.

Clarice had helped Jack Crawford solve a particularly tricky case when he had been at the end of his rope and ready to beg Will Graham to help them, but at the last moment, Clarice pointed out an important clue that led Jack to catch the criminal. Jack was quick to welcome Clarice into his inner circle and made her a special consulting agent; for Jack, she is his new hound.

Of course, no one is as good as Will Graham but little Clarice is not above getting her hands dirty to get results, something Crawford takes full advantage of by sending her to Hannibal.

Hannibal is not sure if he should praise the young woman's cunningness to manipulate the situation until Jack had no choice but to send her to a serial killer for help or to strangle her for going against his instructions and putting herself in a compromising position. Still, Hannibal has to admit that it is the best way to maintain communication and have access to inside FBI information.

Clarice being in the FBI is a little ironic; Hannibal had wanted Will to be his mongoose to keep him covered and now he has one – it’s just not Will, and he is incarcerated. 

“Would you mind getting my sketches, Clarice?”

“Of course.” She rises gracefully from her seat and retrieves the papers before taking her seat once again.

With a nod from Hannibal, she looks through his sketches, turning one page after another. Clarice’s lips twitch in an amused smirk when she sees Alana’s portrait, she set that one aside along with another one that catches her eye and continues to look through the remaining sketches. There are some half-drawn sketches of Will’s countenance – he doesn’t have the heart to complete them anymore – the rest are of places he visited when he was in Florence. He wants to draw other places as well but refrains as he doesn’t want the FBI to know where he might have properties.

Hannibal opens the file Clarice bought with her to find a small piece of paper and a pencil tucked in there. On the paper, she has asked whether he wants to get out of the BSHCI or not. He answers with a simple ‘no’ like he did every time before. Occasionally the paper has some message from Chiyoh that Hannibal answers for Clarice to pass along. However, today Hannibal has some questions of his own.

Just as the second to the last page is set down, an envelope falls on the table in front of her. He gestures toward the envelope that has the wedding invitation for her to read. She looks surprised after reading it but not shocked, which gives Hannibal enough of a hint that it is valid. He still wants confirmation though.

_-Is that true?_

He doesn’t pass the paper to her after writing, she’ll have to read from her seat.

He is quite sure that there are no hidden cameras in his cell but he wouldn’t put it past Alana to hide recorders so they need to be cautious about it. Clarice doesn’t write on paper – it would be suspicious if both of them started to write – she instead uses Morse Code to subtly answer.

 _-Yes_.

Hannibal had mentally prepared himself for this possibility but is wholly unprepared for the ache that begins in his chest and spread through his body. All the ease he felt in Clarice's presence vanishes, all the control he managed to maintain over his emotions in the last days vanishes, and he desperately tries to grasp something, anything that isn’t searing pain on his insides.

Will, his Will is really going to marry someone else and leave him to perish in this cage.

Hannibal takes a deep breath and puts his emotions aside for the moment. He needs some more answers before he makes any decision.

_-Do you know who sent this?_

She squints at the page and frowns when she can’t read it properly so he turns the page towards her. They have never actually discussed anything that would require an immediate answer so it’s a bit problematic. 

- _No._

_-Find out._

He places the paper and pencil in the file before closing and passing it back to the agent. He trusts Clarice to find out by whatever means necessary. But she can’t come back to tell him unless there is a pressing case Jack needs help with. They will have to use their other means of communication; Clarice will call BSHCI under the guise of his lawyer and deliver the information.

When Hannibal decided to surrender, he had instructed Chiyoh to stay in his property in Cuba. He didn’t wanted Chiyoh anywhere nearby as Jack knew of her existence. He needed a means of communication between Chiyoh and himself, so he called Clarice. This was the extend of the original plan Hannibal had for Clarice, before she took it upon herself to join the FBI.

“Did you like your sketch?”

The other sketch that Clarice put aside with Alana's is of her likeness. The woman in the sketch is wearing slim-fit leather pants, jacket, shirt with jabot and frilly cuff, and knee-high boots. The whole look is completed with excessive jewelry, daggers, and pistols stored securely on the belt sashes. The woman is an exact replica of Clarice, except for the pixy hairstyle instead of her straight shoulder-length hair under the lace lined tricorner pirate hat. The sketch is both impressive and ridiculous with its fine details and the fierce look on Clarice’s face in a pirate costume.

“This is Grace O’Malley, an Irish female pirate, more widely known as Grainne Mhaol, a nickname earned from teenage rebellion.”

The young woman laughs, open and delighted, breaking the facade of impersonal FBI agent and Hannibal is so pleased that he too forgets his pretense for a minute.

“Grace’s mother thought it would be inappropriate for a young woman to set sail with her father because of her long hair. The indefatigable Grace promptly chopped off her locks, earning passage on the voyage as well as the name that roughly translates to ‘bald’.”

On the off chance someone investigates the sketch to try to figure out any hidden message or meaning in the sketch, they won’t find one. Because there really is genuinely nothing find. This is a personal gift to the young agent. He had chosen the idea for the sketch very carefully, only Clarice would decipher the whimsy joke. 

“It is very nice of you to come all the way here to keep me updated about _our_ _cases_ , Clarice. I would love to invite you to dinner but circumstances would not allow it, so I made you this.”

She fondly shakes her head at him, “This is quite impressive, Doctor, thank you very much.”

“You can take it with you.”

“May I take this one too?” She points to Alana's sketch. He doesn’t plan on giving it to Alana anymore so he agrees.

“What will you do with them?”

She smirks as she replies, “I’ll hang them on my fridge.”

A guard opens the door to his cell when the visiting time is almost up. Clarice gathers the file and places the sketches in it to take out later, then stands to take her leave.

“Remember Clarice, despite what Uncle Jack have you believed; the devil doesn’t need the lamb to be sacrificed, not when the lamb has so much potential,” Now that the guards are standing in the doorway watching them, Clarice make sure to school her expressions into those of a troubled, shaken trainee after talking to a cannibalistic serial killer.

“You run along back to school now, little lamb.”

“Goodbye, Doctor Lecter.”

“Until next time, Clarice.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The links that will appear are images, you can click on them to see if you like.

The door to Hannibal’s cell opens and an orderly, Denise, enters with a pushcart with the phone. Hannibal gets up from his bed and comes to stand in the center of the cell. He didn’t ask for the phone so it means someone had called him.

“Face the worktable. If you turn around or approach the barrier before you hear the lock snap, I'll mace you in the face. Understand?”

Denise is unspeakably rude. She, like Alana, thinks that just because the monster is caged, she is safe from his claws.

“Yes, indeed.”

The orderly places the telephone through the slot, latching it shut with a snap.

“Thank you so much, Denise.”

The orderly openly glares at Hannibal and leaves. Hannibal, now in complete privacy, picks up the phone in strange sort of anticipation.

“Hello.”

_“Hello, Doctor Lecter.”_

Hannibal is momentarily surprised to hear Clarice’s voice; she was supposed to call him as his lawyer but not so soon. He would have to praise the woman’s skill someday that she can work so efficiently.

“Miss Metcalf, did you do what I’ve asked?”

_“Yes, sir. There is no record in the FBI for forwarding any mail for you.”_

Ever since Hannibal was declared the Chesapeake Ripper, he had received so much fan mail asking for recipes and his hand in marriage – much to his amusement – that the FBI decided to go through each and everyone to keep tabs on him. If there is no record in the FBI, it means that it was either personally delivered at BSHCI – which Will would never do, because he wouldn’t be able to resist seeing him – or it really was Alana’s doing.

“I see. Maybe you should ask Doctor Bloom.”

If someone is listening in on him, they would only hear his side of the conversation and he could easily spin any lie about the whole thing. Clarice, however, would understand that he is asking her to check if Alana made the whole thing up. He knows what he is asking for is quite risky for Clarice, her cover could easily be blown, but he has to know.

_“Sir, if I may, I think Doctor Bloom sent it herself, there is no reason for you to receive the invitation_ now _.”_

Hannibal frowns, he already suspects that this was Alana’s doing but he doesn’t understand Clarice’s reasoning behind it.

“How so?”

_“Why would Will Graham send you the invitation months after the wedding? But I did check to be sure and there – ”_

“What did you say?”

_“Sir?”_

“You said ‘months after the wedding’. What do mean? When was the wedding?”

If he is being recorded they will know he has accomplices outside, willing to do his bidding. But at this point, Hannibal is beyond caring.

_“Sir,”_ he can hear the hesitation in Clarice’s voice, _“Will Graham was married to Molly Foster three months ago.”_

Everything stops. Hannibal stands utterly still; he doesn’t even dare to breathe in fear that he might hurl the phone against the shatterproof glass of his cell. Three months. His Will married three months ago and he didn’t even know. All this time, each day Hannibal would rise with the hope that this day would be the one when the door would open and he would turn around to find his Will just on the other side of the glass. So close that Hannibal would smell the life Will is leading underneath that atrocious aftershave. Hannibal would have been heartbroken, to know that he could see and smell his Will but not touch.

It would have been enough. He would have taken nourishment just from the sight of Will – as he had done for years. He would have lived and died in this cell if that was what Will have required of him to be his, but Will doesn’t want that. Will rejected Hannibal and chose someone else – again.

Hannibal lets out a shaky laugh as he realizes his hands are trembling.

_“Doctor Lecter? Are you alright?”_

Clarice asks softly like she knows that his whole world just crumbled before his eyes, like she knows that something is breaking deep inside him, like she can see him bleeding out in the cage he so willingly entered.

_“Doctor Lecter?”_

“Get me out of here.”

The words are out of his mouth before he could even comprehend what he is saying, but as the silence stretches on the other end of the call, Hannibal finds that he does not want to take them back. For a moment, Hannibal fears that the call has disconnected and he would have to call her to ask again to get him out of this cell as soon as she can, which is no easy feat – as the dial stays on the other side of the glass – but he is sure that he can figure out something if it comes down to it.

_“I’ll call Chiyoh_. _”_

Hannibal nods and then, feeling stupid for nodding at the telephone, he hastily disconnects the call. He knows it was rude but he doesn’t care at the moment. He can apologize to her when he is out.

Hannibal is not sure if it’s his imagination making the cell seem claustrophobic than normal or if it has always been this way. Either way, he feels agitated all of sudden, he wants to run, he wants to go outside and run and run until his feet bleed, he wants to take a knife and slaughter each and every person in this building. His whole body feels both numb and cold – even though the heating system is working.

Hannibal walks back to his cot on shaky legs and lies down. He pulls the blanket up to his shoulders to ward off the cold that seems to originate from inside him. His chest hurts, he rubs it with a heel of his hand and watches the shadows come to life in his mind after so many years.

\--

Clarice calls Chiyoh as soon as she ends the call with Doctor Lecter and informs her that it’s time to get him out. They already have everything planned, Chiyoh will take the first flight available to Maryland, it will take approximately ten hours for her to land. Ten hours for Clarice to prepare everything they need to break out Hannibal Lecter from Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Clarice has spent months preparing for this moment, she has details of every guard and nurse that works at BSHCI, she knows exactly when their shifts change and where the blind spots are.

There are five doors between Hannibal Lecter and the outside world, and Alana Bloom has keys to all of them. She keeps them on her all the time, she doesn’t trust anyone with them, nor should she. Because no one is as careful as her and one mistake could lead to her demise. For fourteen months, Alana Bloom has been so cautious, changing locks to those doors every two months. Stealing or making copies of those keys would have been futile, that’s why Clarice had bought an oxy-fuel cutter off-shore to simply cut through the locking mechanism rending them useless. As effective as this method is, it would take time to cut through five thick doors and they don’t have that much time. They have a very small window of opportunity where they can get Doctor Lecter out without causing any commotion because otherwise, things could get very ugly.

Chiyoh had planned to sneak an injection to Doctor Lecter to fake a heart attack to get him to the medical ward, but it was so cliché that Clarice outright refused. Needless to say, Chiyoh is not pleased and Clarice is sure that the woman would go and do just that without Clarice if she doesn’t come up with something before Chiyoh arrives.

As luck would have, Alana Bloom is out of the country with her wife and son, leaving the responsibility of BSHCI – and the keys – to Doctor Frederick Chilton. People would think that after the whole setting him up as the Chesapeake Ripper fiasco, Chilton would be more careful with his home security but Frederick’s cockiness is going to work out in Clarice’s favor tonight.

Clarice dons her latex gloves and breaks into Frederick’s house through the garage; she knows the code. It is easy to hide in the big house and wait for Frederick to arrive. Clarice is eighty percent sure that she will not have to dispose of Frederick tonight, but she is hoping that Frederick does find her so she can seal his fate; she really hates that man. She would have killed Frederick regardless if she didn’t know that Doctor Lecter plans on doing the honor himself.

She hears footsteps coming through the front door, there’s a pause somewhere in the living room and then they continue to the kitchen. There is some shuffling in the kitchen, things moved around. She waits until Frederick is done with his dinner and moves to the upper level of the house before coming out of her hiding spot. She enters the living room where she first heard Frederick stop and finds his things in the empty bowl on the table there. The keys that Alana protects more than her life are just tossed carelessly. If Clarice didn’t know better she would think that it’s a trap. She pockets the keys and reenters the kitchen, she opens the fridge and looks at the contents.

She doesn’t have any business here anymore, but she can’t help but fuck around a little. She takes the wine bottle out, pour herself a glass, and drinks it leisurely. It's risky, Doctor Lecter would have her skin if he ever found out but it’s not like she is stupid enough to leave the glass with her fingerprints. The shower has stopped, meaning there is a chance that Frederick might come back downstairs, and Clarice waits. When fifteen minutes passed with no sign of the man coming, Clarice sighs in disappointment that she didn’t get to kill Chilton. She washes the glass, dries it with a washcloth, and leaves it on the counter where someone might notice it. She leaves just as quietly as she came.

She then drives to Annapolis. Due to the late hour, it only takes her thirty minutes to reach her destination. Once there, she calls Jeremy, a man Chiyoh believes will give them the software that they would need to hack into the security system at BSHCI. Clarice didn’t ask how Chiyoh found the guy, it’s not her business and as long as the guy is not a squealer, Clarice doesn’t give a shit.

She parks in the parking lot of a building and waits for the man to arrive. She is driving the [Volvo S80 2012 model](https://i.postimg.cc/GpCXx6hk/photo-jpeg-677x1000-q100.jpg), it’s in good enough condition not to raise suspicion and common enough that nobody would give it a second glance. Clarice lights a cigarette as she waits, she is used to waiting. What she does requires a staggering amount of patience and her daddy taught her that from a very young age.

A man in a pink hoodie arrives at ten o clock sharp. She gets out of the car, having made sure her ginger hair is well hidden in her beanie before greeting the man. The whole exchange lasts barely two minutes, he silently delivers the package and she hands over the bag of cash to him. A lot of things can go wrong in deals like this; more than not people end up with a bullet in their head because one of the parties thinks they can leave with everything. That’s why she got a [Walther P99](https://i.postimg.cc/Wb8cQmxL/XO410524-BKR.jpg) hidden in her holster under her jacket. Fortunately, for him, Jeremy doesn’t try anything, and the trade goes off without a hitch.

Next, she takes a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Chesapeake because the Chesapeake Ripper has a safe house in the Chesapeake. It’s really a wonder that nobody caught Doctor Lecter because of his puns and double entendres.

She parks in front of a moderate looking [cabin](https://i.postimg.cc/x1F4nX6d/images-7.jpg). This is where she lives when she is not staying in her apartment near Quantico. There is another house, well hidden in the forest. That would be where Doctor Lecter will stay. She picks up her bag and the files that she took to Doctor Lecter earlier and makes her way to the front door to open it. Just as she enters the cabin, Clarice is ambushed – by her Persian cat, Milo. The orange ball of fur tries his best to claw his way up her legs.

“Someone missed me huh?”

Balancing her things in her arms and an enthusiastic cat hanging from her leg, Clarice stumbles into the kitchen to put away the files. She picks Milo up and gives him a few pets and kisses in greeting. She doesn’t have much time to stay so she hastily fills water and food bowls for her cat. Clarice goes to the hidden house every few weeks to maintain the condition of the house, her last visit was just last week so at least she doesn’t have to worry about that.

She dresses into the standard nurse uniform that all orderlies wear at BSHCI and puts the other one in the bag for Chiyoh, along with some clothes for Doctor Lecter, the keys and the oxy-fuel cutter – just in case. She also takes another pistol with silencers for both weapons – again, just in case. At last, she wears a wig to hide her ginger hair, nobody is going to believe that she is naturally brunette but she isn’t worried about it, she can always kill if someone recognizes her. She doesn’t bring any wig for Chiyoh because nobody has ever seen her at BSHCI.

Clarice grabs a few energy drinks on her way out, she didn’t get the chance to eat anything since that morning before she went to visit Doctor Lecter and she has a feeling that she won’t get a chance for a while when the FBI would find out about the escape. Clarice locks the door behind her and sighs, it’s gonna be one long day ahead of her. She just hopes that she would get home on time to feed her cat.

After the tenacious drive back to Baltimore, she parks the car in the place Chiyoh decided to meet her after her plane landed. She tries to naps for a while as she waits, driving all over the city back and forth is really taking a toll on her but she feels too jittery. Her leg is bouncing so furiously that the whole car is shaking, she wonders what Doctor Lecter would think if he saw her like this; would he be disappointed that all his therapy didn’t work or will he understand that she was feeling anxious because of the pressure on her. If she failed today, she would not only jeopardize Doctor Lecter’s freedom but also put his life at risk.

Clarice almost jumps at the sudden knock at her window, she turns her head to watch a woman dressed in simple jeans and a button-down shirt with a sweater. She opens the lock and waits before she is seated to greet her, “Hello Chi.”

The woman narrows her eyes at the pet name but doesn’t remark on it and simply returns the greeting.

“You have everything I asked for.”

The only thing Clarice finds tolerable about the woman is that she gets straight down to the business. Clarice tries not to bristle at the way Chiyoh makes the whole thing sound like it’s her plan and Clarice is merely a nuisance. It’s not a competition, they’re both here to help Doctor Lecter but Clarice doesn’t have to be an empath to know that Chiyoh doesn’t trust her. Clarice doesn’t know how to assure the woman that the last thing she wants to do is hurt Doctor Lecter.

“Yeah, I have everything. But we’re still doing it my way.”

“I do not have to do anything, I can just kill you now and do whatever I want anyway.” Chiyoh calmly replies in her broken accent.

Clarice clenches her jaw and forces her hand from not twitching toward the gun she concealed on her person. Clarice doesn’t take lightly to being threatened, she would have bashed the woman's face in if she was sure Chiyoh's disappearance would not be questioned by Doctor Lecter.

Clarice already had a suspension that Chiyoh won't be persuaded easily to follow her plan, and since she can't force Chiyoh, she'll have to use another tactic. Clarice doesn’t know the dynamic between Doctor Lecter and Chiyoh, she never knew of the older woman's existence until the day the good Doctor surrendered. But from her observations, Clarice deduced Chiyoh's obsessive drive to protect Doctor Lecter and she will exploit it. For Doctor Lecter's benefit.

“Doctor Lecter is not well,” Chiyoh turns her head toward Clarice sharply, gaze burning to see if she is lying, but she isn’t. She is merely bending the truth, “Staying at the hospital has robbed him of his strength. He is weak – ”

“Hannibal is not weak!”

Clarice makes her voice softer, childish, face more open and inviting for the older woman to see the honesty in her.

“He is not, but do you want to risk his life? For your pride?”

Oh, Clarice knows she hit her mark when Chiyoh's face showed a hint of worry and hurt, just for a moment before it turned into offense at the implication that Doctor Lecter's guard dog is not loyal. She has Chiyoh almost where she wants, just need a little more nudge.

“The hospital administers drug therapy. He could be already injected with something and adding something else might cause a negative reaction. He could have a heart attack,” eyes wide with fear and a bit misty, Clarice makes her final shot, “They might not even take him to a medical ward in time, if they take him there at all.”

Clarice doesn’t say another word, she played as much as she could without laying it too thick. Now it’s up to Chiyoh, either she will cooperate with Clarice or she won't, and if she doesn’t, Clarice would put a bullet in her head and deal with Doctor Lecter's wrath once he is safe.

Chiyoh nods her consensus because she is too prideful to say anything verbally, especially to someone so much younger than her. If this were any other situation, Clarice would have not relented until she got what she wanted, but time is precious. They need to be at BSHCI at exactly six fifteen am, so Clarice simply passes Chiyoh the bag she bought with her. Clarice turns her face to the other side as Chiyoh strips out of her clothes and pulls on the uniform, not out of respect but because it will be hella awkward if she is caught staring at Chiyoh after the night they spend together that one time many months ago.

Once Chiyoh is dressed and armed, Clarice starts to drive toward the direction of BSHCI. She parks the car in the lot reserved for the workers, Clarice sends one message to Barney from the burner phone to gives him a heads up that they are here. She didn’t inform him beforehand because she didn’t want to give him time to alert the authorities. They gather their stuff and make their way towards the back entrance where Barney meets them. He is sweating with nerves, he was not Clarice’s first choice when she started to look for someone on the inside, the man has solid moral ground, but he also has a missing daughter that has kept him in line.

“Hello, Barney. Are you ready to meet little Lara?”

Clarice saw a flicker of interest in Chiyoh's eyes at that but she ignores it for now. Barney nods.

“Now I know you would probably feel queasy about doing any of the fun stuff so I'll give you the simplest job, okay?”

Barney nods again, though they both know that he doesn’t have any option. She digs out the device she bought to hack into the security feed and hands it to Barney. It’s a pretty easy device to use, Barney just has to press the button on it when he is in the surveillance room. It will automatically connect the device to the computers, deleting the past twenty-four hours of footage, preventing it from recording anything further, and looping a previous recording. She instructs Barney how to operate the device and when she is sure he can not possibly fuck this up, she lets him leave to do his part – not before reminding him of the fate that awaits his daughter if he fails.

The man leaves with a grim expression like he’s been asked to torment children in an orphanage. Clarice shakes her head, men and their honor. She can practically feel the heat of Chiyoh's eyes on her and it’s making her weirdly conscious of herself, but Clarice refuses to meet her gaze to assess her thoughts. She needs to keep her focus on the task at hand.

“Do we have enough time to cut through five doors?” Chiyoh asks.

Clarice has yet to tell Chiyoh that she has managed to get her hands on the keys. She doesn’t trust the woman not to kill her and complete the plan by herself. But now that they are actually here and mere minutes away from breaking a patient out from the BSHCI, she supposes that it is safe to tell her.

“I have the keys. To the doors.”

Just then, Barney text her that he has turned on the device and they are good to go, Clarice informs Chiyoh and they enter the hospital with the disinterest of the regular employees. Clarice knows the routines in which the guards change their shifts, it is early enough that nobody is paying much attention to anyone. The guards are tired of doing nothing but staring at the same screens for hours on end, almost all of them are busy entertaining themselves by surfing on their phones or talking among themselves. Barney is the head orderly; everyone knows him so his presence won't be questioned in the surveillance room.

It would have been easier if they have taken the visitors' route where the elevator is located, which leads to the lower level of the building but there are too many cells before that. They don’t want to risk someone recognizing Clarice as the FBI trainee, so they take the stairs. Besides they can skip a few doors on this way. They quickly descend to the last floor and make sure no one is in the long hallway that leads to the only cell on the floor.

“Stay here and keep watch. I'll go get him.” Clarice orders – yes, she did _order_ because she knows how much it would infuriate Chiyoh – and walks away before Chiyoh could object.

There are no guards on this floor because making them stand here would serve no purpose. There is only one set of the keys to all doors and it remains in the possession of whoever is administrating the hospital. Alana comes down here herself whenever they need to transfer anything. This is why Clarice chose this time to break Doctor Lecter out, the guards have no reason to worry. The door doesn’t open at night.

There are two doors in the hall that lead to the cell; the wooden double door one is for the visitors and the other one is for security and orderlies to enter the cell, Clarice herself has walked through this door many times. Clarice grabs the key and breathes a sigh of relief as the door opens with an audible click. Now that she knows that the keys are working – not that they had any reason not to – she can admit that she was worried.

She opens the door to a small lobby like space with a few racks lining one wall, on them are the equipment the guards use to restrain Doctor Lecter; handcuffs, chains, masks, and the straight jacket. There is also a dolly that is used to move Doctor Lecter – for when they need to clean the cell, Clarice assumes. There is another door to the right that further opens to another lobby – this one is completely empty – the design of the cell is very cleverly made. If somehow, Doctor Lecter manages to break into this room there will be nothing here that he can use as a weapon, the guards can clear the other room before opening this one to restrain him again. Clever, but Clarice bet Alana never thought Doctor Lecter would not try to break out himself. The man is more than capable of doing it himself but what he requires is theatrics. Clarice wishes she could somehow see the look on the face of Frederick Chilton when he arrives in a few hours to discover the cell empty of its occupant.

Clarice opens the last door to reveal the inside of the cell. The lights are completely turned off, sheathing everything in complete blackness. She takes one step inside to see if Doctor Lester is awake or not when a hand clams around her neck tightly to cut off her air.

Her mind is instantly in fight mode, more so as adrenaline is already coursing through her body. She grabs the wrist and digs her fingers in the tendons there. The grip loses just for a second but before she could free herself, she is thrown against the wall forcefully. What remaining breath she had rushed out with the impact and she falls down before the hand-wound around her neck again.

Clarice jerks bodily with a snarl. She lands a punch at the face that is entirely too familiar and the haze in her mind clear enough to realize that the man above is Doctor Lecter. Clarice is confused – by lack of oxygen in her brain or simply from the situation, she doesn’t know. Knowing who is choking her, Clarice forces her body to still, fighting against her instincts to claw and tear until she is free.

She has never seen the man like this; savage. Even when he kills, he does it with elegance and prestige suitable for an emperor. Clarice jerks again uncontrollably when the hold tightens again, her mind races to find a way to save herself from this. She knows she can't fight back, that would only make things worse for her. At the moment, Doctor Lecter is savoring the kill, if she resisted, he would either prolong the torture or simply snap her neck.

Summoning tears in her blue eyes are not difficult, she schools her expressions in one of open terror and forces the words out of her mouth in a childish voice, “Help, Hannibal!”

Doctor Lecter pulls his hand away so fast as if her words have burned him. Once free, Clarice curls on her side, coughing and wheezing. She doesn’t dare to look at the man in fear that he would see through her façade and go back to squeezing the ever-loving life out of her.

“Clarice!”

The man breaks out from whatever trance he was in and quickly pulls Clarice in a sitting position. Not wanting to trigger the man again, Clarice decides to play the role for a while longer. Doctor Lecter has a very keen sense of smell, he can deduce a person's emotions by the pheromones in their scent alone, so she projects distress and fear as she whimpers. Clarice learned years ago that people have this innate instinct to protect something vulnerable, even most psychopaths are not immune to this phenomenon, and Doctor Lecter is also no exception. He may have seen right through the act in normal circumstances – and shown her exactly why she should never try this on him – but whatever emotional upheaval he has had obviously lowered his defenses and she plans on taking advantage of it, for the sake of both their lives.

“Forgive me, Clarice, I thought it was Alana.”

That would explain why instead of getting the praise of a job done well, she was attacked. She hopes that she can make Alana pay for this one day.

She gingerly touches her throat where she feels bruises forming already, bringing his attention there on purpose. The man gathers her close and gently examines his handiwork. Imprisonment really did take a toll on the doctor, where once he would have remained completely blank-faced, now there are clear signs of worry in tight lines of his face.

“We h-have to go. Not much t–time left.” She says with a hoarse throat.

Thankfully, Doctor Lecter composes himself quickly and pulls both of them on their feet. Clarice doesn’t bother to keep the façade any longer now that the man has his sense. They leave the cell, locks the doors behind them, and join Chiyoh at the opposite end of the hall. The reunited pair don’t say anything, greeting each other with nods. As they start to ascend the stairs, Chiyoh's eyes flicker between Hannibal and Clarice, obviously trying to determine what transpired between them to cause those bruises.

They make it to the upper level, Barney meets them there and leads them to an exit that is infrequently used by the workers. The man seems to have aged ten years since she last saw him. He nervously glances towards Doctor Lecter every few seconds like he is afraid he'll be turned into dinner. As they near the exit, Clarice comes to direct the doctor to their car when he predictably slows down. The man has spent months locked away, fresh air and daylight would feel heavenly. But unfortunately, it is not the time or the place. Chiyoh walks ahead of them to start the car, she will be driving them. Barney sits besides Chiyoh upfront, Clarice takes the seat behind Chiyoh, and Doctor Lecter behind Barney.

Clarice chooses this seating deliberately so she can subdue Barney if he starts to cause any problem. She takes the phone from Barney and checks his pocket to see if he concealed any weapons or any tracking device. It would be ideal to simply dispose of Barney right there and cut off another lose end but Clarice needs to be sure that he didn’t play any tricks on them. But now is not the time, they need to get to the safe house immediately.

Doctor Lecter spares a long stare at the BSHCI as Chiyoh starts to drive toward the address Clarice gives her. Twenty minutes later, they are parked a block away from Frederick Chilton's house. Clarice hands the bag with clothes to Doctor Lecter and silently exit the car, she jogged toward the hideous house she broke in hours before and just like before she slips inside from the garage, place the keys from where she took them after cleaning any prints from it, clean the door handles, and any other surface she touched and slips outside.

Once back, Chiyoh silently drives to Clarice's place after they both have changed clothes too. It was a long and quiet ride. Doctor Lecter is deep in thought; he seems so different from the man Clarice knew. She knows that he is affected by the news of Will Graham's marriage. Clarice knows that the man cares about Will, but now Clarice wonders if his compassion for Will is more than platonic. She wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. But what she doesn’t understand is why he attacked her in the cell. Of course, he has every reason to attack Alana but normally Alana only enters the cell after the guards have restrained him. So what lead him to be so reckless? Clarice is itching to ask him if he is alright but stops herself, she already pulled a trick on him and maybe he would think that she is still playing with him.

When they finally stop the car on Clarice's driveway, Barney, Clarice, and Doctor Lecter exit the vehicle so Chiyoh can take care of the car. Clarice asks Barney to assist her with carrying some grocery bags and they all begin the long trek to the hidden house. There are no dirt roads to drive there nor there are any tracks to easily reach the destination, to someone else it would be like walking in circles but Clarice, who has spent the past five years down here has memorized the path that would lead her to the house.

Ever the gentleman, Doctor Lecter takes the bags from her even after she insists she can carry them. Clarice knows that it would be difficult to hike in the forest for someone who is not used to extensive exercise, but even after locked up for more than a year Doctor Lecter is barely winded, Barney, on the other hand, might have a heart attack any minute.

“Oh thank God!” Barney says when they finally see the house, making both of them amused.

The area surrounding the [house](https://i.postimg.cc/L5JsQC6T/3189806a125c4712f0c2c78e31a60f86.jpg) is well maintained, the edge of the forest ends right where the small lawn starts. The house is bigger than the modest cabin where Clarice lives. They walk up the wooden steps to the front door, Clarice opens the lock and lets both men enter the house after her. Barney and Clarice put away the groceries while Doctor Lecter pulls the curtain away to let natural light in. The living room opens to the kitchen and the eat-in area with access to the deck that shows the stunning view of the beautiful lake.

Clarice pours water for Barney and Doctor Lecter and joins them in the living room.

“Thank you, Clarice.” The good doctor offers her a small smile, Clarice nods in response.

“I'll show you both to your rooms, you can get fresh while I make breakfast.”

After drinking the water, both men follow her upstairs. There are three rooms with adjoined bathrooms on the upper floor, she let Barney in one of the guest’s rooms while show Doctor Lecter to the master bed. This is the only room in the house that Clarice decorated herself, keeping the peculiar tastes of the Doctor in mind. The dark panel wood walls were adorned with paintings. Against one wall is the king bed, made with the dark maroon sheet, pillowcase, and duvet. But the eye-catching piece of the room is the stag antler above the headboard. There is also a mirror hanging from gold chains from the ceiling just like in Doctor Lecter's home in Baltimore.

The walk-in closet already holds everything doctor Lecter could need, although Clarice did not put more than a few suites for the doctor knowing the man would dress to the nines every day even though nobody would give a shit here anyway.

“If there is something else you need, please do let me know.”

Clarice is almost out the door when he stops her by calling her.

“I apologize again for behaving the way I did at the hospital. Would you let me examine your throat?”

“There is no need to apologize, and you may after breakfast.”

With a nod from the doctor, Clarice closes the door behind her and goes down to start making something for them to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of this chapter, I hope I didn't fucked up the breaking-out-of-hospital thing. And I didn't tagged Clarice/Chiyoh because I don't plan on showing them as a couple, but if you guys want, I can change that. 
> 
> thank you for reading and have a nice day :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, before you begin remember; Hannibal refer to his mind palace Will as William. 
> 
> beta'd by [Spark_Fly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spark_Fly/pseuds/Spark_Fly)

Hannibal waits until he is sure Clarice is downstairs before sitting heavily on the bed like all the energy sapped out of him. He needs a moment to collect himself, ever since he got the news of Will’s marriage he feels so out of sorts. Never has Hannibal lost control as he did at the BSHCI when Clarice came to get him out and he attacked her – he still can not believe he did that. When she called his name, for a moment, he saw his baby sister lying there instead of Clarice before he got his bearing enough to push the image away to help Clarice. He would have killed the poor girl if she hadn’t tricked him – he knows she said his name like _that_ deliberately – if it was any other time, he would have punished her for this insolence but he’s aware he left the girl no other choice. 

His own mind is fast becoming his enemy. For Hannibal, his mind is as much a sanctuary as a prison. Not every room in his mind palace is lovely, there are rooms in there that Hannibal doesn’t have the courage to enter even now. He stays far away from those places, but it feels like someone has opened the doors to let the long-forgotten shadows wreak havoc in there. 

Hannibal nearly jumps when he feels a hand on his back, he whips his head around to find a pair of cerulean blue eyes that holds his very soul, staring right at him. He inhales sharply and watches as the sweet mouth of his William twists into a cruel smirk, _“What’s the matter, Doctor? You don’t look so good.”_

“What are you doing here?” It’s a stupid question to ask because he knows the younger man is here to tear him into pieces like hungry vultures. 

William moves from the center of the bed to come to sit beside him. He is wearing the same salmon-colored shirt he had on when he came to Hannibal after getting out of the BSCHI to continue his therapy. Hair slicked back except that one stubborn curl that sits delicately over his left brow. Hannibal remembers his initial shock at seeing Will – all dolled-up for his benefit. He can even smell Will's preferred aftershave that the younger man used to douse himself in to annoy Hannibal. 

If Hannibal is willing to ignore logic, he can pretend that Will is really here, attending another of their pseudo-therapy sessions. 

_“You tell me, you're the one who summoned me.”_ Even his voice has the same soft tone from that night. 

“I did not.”

“ _You did. I think you’re feeling lonely, Doctor? Don’t worry, I'll keep you company.”_ The last part is whispered almost seductively. 

Hannibal turns his face away before replying, “Go away, William.”

Hannibal doesn’t wait to see if Will's likeness leaves or not, he simply gets up and enters the bathroom. He strips quickly, disposing the clothes in the laundry hamper. The bathroom is not as lavish as it was at his house in Baltimore but it is a thousand times better than the private shower area he was allowed to use every three days under the watchful eyes of the guards at BSHCI. 

Hannibal had wanted to enjoy taking the first shower after getting out but seeing William has soured his mood. He turns the water to the hot setting and stands under the water, lathering the body-wash on his body in hurried motions.

_“Walking out on me doesn’t work. You know that.”_

Hannibal breathes in deep, trying – fruitlessly – to ignore William as he puts his hands on the wall in front of him, letting the water wash away the suds.

He doesn’t have to turn to know what the boy is wearing this time. He is proven right when William wriggles between the wall and Hannibal. Hannibal swallows at the drenched body in front of him. Wet hair plastered on William's face, shirt clinging to his body, and blinking up at Hannibal with a coy look. 

_Not real, this is not real._

Hannibal lifts his hand from the wall and places it against William's throat, feeling the ghost of a pulse that isn't really there. How many times had Hannibal touched the real Will like this; feeling his racing pulse in the fevered induced seizures, and in a state of unconsciousness. 

Marvelling at his own twin desires to crush and protect the vulnerable man. It could have been so easy, he could have ended it all, he wishes that it could be this easy now, wishes that he could at least kill this mockery of his Will and spare himself some pain. 

“Why won't you leave me alone?” he whispers, inches away from William. 

_“I did leave you,”_ Hannibal flinches like he’s been slapped at the truth in those words. 

Will did leave him and married someone else, moved far away from the clutches of his previous life. And here is Hannibal, pathetically summoning Will’s resemblance. He is the one who can't let the boy go. 

“I don’t know how to let you go.”

_“You do; you just don’t want to.”_

“I'd have to kill you.” 

Although there are only a few inches of difference between their heights, William stands on his toes to get near the older man’s face. For a second Hannibal thinks that William is going to kiss him but then ~~much to his disappointment~~ , William turns his face slightly to the side to whisper in his ear, _“Then do it.”_

Hannibal pulls away – just a little, he can’t stay away from his boy – to properly look at William. “You want me to kill you?”

_“No silly, I want you to kill_ Will _. I’ll always be here with you.”_

Hannibal is not the kind of person who believes that the devil sits on the person’s shoulder to whisper profanities in their ears, but this right here is his own personal version of the devil. All pretty eyes and sharp mouth in a bundle of everything he has ever desired. 

He pushes away from William ~~reluctantly~~ and turns off the shower before walking away. He grabs a towel from the rack, wraps it around his waist, and exits the bathroom. He dresses in dark slacks and a white button-down shirt. He combs his hair – mourning at the loss of his preferred length – and exits the room before William can force him to engage in another conversation. 

_"Have fun, Doctor, I'll be right here waiting for you."_

Hannibal ignores the bubbly laughter behind the closed door of his new room and walks down the stairs.

As Hannibal nears the kitchen he hears Barney shouting. Hannibal had been surprised to see the man with Clarice, it explained why Barney always behaved well with him. Hannibal knows that the man did not help them because of greed but fear, of what exactly, he doesn’t know. 

“I won’t fucking calm down! You take me to my daughter right now.”

Ah, so this is how Clarice swayed the man. Effective. People tend to do all kinds of atrocities to keep their children safe. 

Hannibal enters the kitchen area where Barney is pointing a knife at Clarice, who is looking at the man with an unimpressed expression. As soon as they become aware of his presence, the atmosphere changes instantly. Barney, seeing the bigger predator, backs up a little, putting space between them but stops when Clarice steps towards him at the same time. Like every other pig Hannibal had slaughtered, Barney, when he doesn’t see any escape, starts spluttering vulgarities. 

“I should have never trusted you sons of bitches! Where is my fucking daughter? Tell me now!”

Hannibal narrows his eyes at Barney and the man has enough sense to shut his mouth. Hannibal turns his face toward Clarice, silently demanding she explains why she bought Barney with them. And more importantly, why is he still alive? 

Clarice nods in understanding and takes another step forward, making the man flinch away from her. 

“Come with me, I’ll take you to Lara.” 

They make their way outside by the back door and follow the dirt path to the [shed](https://i.postimg.cc/GpY89XLK/6ccccf0e465a24cc0f86469c460e2595.jpg). Hannibal knows there is no one inside the shed. This house didn’t have a basement so he had to improvise and furnish the shed to his taste to work as the pseudo-murder room. The door to the shed has a digital lock, Hannibal enters the password and lets Barney and Clarice enter. 

There is lightly tinted neon tubing that runs along the length of the ceiling with chains and hooks. Drains are set in the floor to easily dispose of the mess. A counter spans the length of the far wall of the shed – stainless steel counter atop a solid wooden base – containing various surgical implements and devices, neatly arranged. Many containers lay on the other counter used for preparing the meat. Against one wall is a big freezer, empty but sure to be filled soon. The shed is not furnished into neat areas to carry out the whole process of preparing and storing the meat taken from the pigs because of the limited area. If he killed someone here, he’d have to put plastic sheets all over the cabinets to protect them from blood sprays. 

Hectic work, but he would make do. 

Seeing the inside of the shed, Barney’s preservation instincts kick in and he begins to turn back but Hannibal is blocking the only exit. 

“Wh – where’s Lara?” Barney stutters.

“Dead,” Clarice replies calmly from behind the man, “I killed her.”

Hannibal raises his brows at the blunt statement, he knows Clarice well enough to know she did not kill Barney’s daughter. Not many people have the stomach for that kind of cruelty, he had killed teenagers as the copycat killer while he worked for the FBI but never children. They are young and innocent, and if they are rude, their parents should be killed because they are the ones who failed to raise their children with proper manners. Like Clarice’s father failed to provide proper guidance to his daughters and Hannibal had to dispose of that pig. 

Hearing of his daughter’s demise, Barney breaks down in tears, “No – no, no you’re lying.”

Oh, it makes Hannibal absolutely delighted to see the fruits of his labor. He knows exactly why Clarice told Barney that his daughter is dead; she has taken away his everything, making him believe that he has nothing left to lose. Barney is a man fuelled by grief and hatred now, and he would lash out at them, he would tell them if he alerted the authorities about Hannibal’s escape. An easy yet clever method, one that Hannibal himself had used on dear Clarice once to test her loyalties. Needless to say, he was not disappointed by the results. He is, after all, an expert in cultivating absolute devotion in his subjects. 

_If only he could have Will Graham’s devotions._

“Why? Why did you kill her? I did everything you asked me to!” The man falls on his knees, all the fight leaving him. 

Shame. Hannibal would have loved to work off some steam. 

Assured that the man didn’t betray them, Clarice jabs a syringe with a sedative in Barney’s neck – a little too harshly in Hannibal’s opinion – and lets the man fall unceremoniously on the floor. Hannibal drags the unconscious man to the bolted chair and straps him there so when he wakes up eventually, he won’t be able to cause any problem. Hannibal would deal with Barney after breakfast – and when Clarice is not here. They walk back to the house in time to find Clarice’s phone chiming.

She grabs it and walks toward him with an excited expression. Hannibal doesn’t have to see the caller id to know who is calling. She accepts the call and put the phone on the speaker for him to hear as well, “Good mornin’, Jack.”

_“Where are you, Clarice!?”_ it seems that Agent Crawford hasn’t lost his tendency to shout at his employees. 

“I’m home, what is it, another case?”

It takes Hannibal a few seconds to understand what Clarice is even saying with how thick her accent gets in the span of mere seconds. She talks without accent with him because he had deliberately passed an offhand comment about her local New Orleans accent. He merely said that to gauge her reaction but looks like she took it to heart. He wants to apologize but he already did a lot of apologizing today, and besides, he can’t stand the southern drawl.

_“No, I wished I was calling for a case. You need to get here asap”_

“That bad huh? A’right, I’ll be there in two hours.

Clarice disconnects the call and scoffs, “Jack is pissed.”

She had switched her accent again. 

“He would be; you did break out his most prized killer.”

Clarice laughs as she gathers her bag from the living room and pulls out two pre-paid mobile phones, handing one to Hannibal. He doesn’t need to ask what they are for, if she suspected that the FBI is onto them, she would just send a simple message and Hannibal would be gone before they could reach the safe house. Of course, Clarice would take the brunt of the FBI’s wrath but he has no doubt that she would do everything and anything to ensure his safety. 

“I didn’t have the time to bring the groceries yesterday so I asked Chiyoh to go shopping, you should text her whatever you need. And I made a ham sandwich for you.”

He is sure he can make something better than ‘ham sandwich’ even with sparse groceries, but not wanting to seem rude he merely nods. He is going to throw it down the toilet as soon as Clarice leaves. 

Oddly enough, Hannibal feels a stab of guilt when he sees the vicious fingerprints on her pale skin, “You were supposed to let me examine your throat.”

“Eh, it’s not that bad, I’ll just dab some make-up on it.”

Unless the cosmetic industry has started to add magic in their products, those bruises are not getting easily covered, but he lets the matter go. She has managed to secure a position in the FBI – something they will talk about when she gets back – he can trust her to know what she is doing. 

“Have fun at school, little lamb.”

“You’re really taking the lamb thing to the heart, aren’t you?”

“Considering your history with lambs, I suppose it’s only appropriate.”

“That’s very insensitive of you.” Hannibal knows there is no heat in her words.

Hannibal has always been fascinated by Clarice, specifically, with her condition. It reminded him so much of his late baby sister that he knew he had to have her. And he did, eventually. He spent years training Clarice to break free of the persona her father built for her while keeping that part of her alive. The part that Hannibal saved just for himself. 

He had thought about conditioning Abigail to be like Clarice too but she was always so wary of him, he couldn’t have begun Abigail’s therapy until she had successfully let go of her inhibitions. But he never got the chance with Abigail, Will ruined his perfect family. Will made him kill their daughter. It would have been such a marvellous surprise for Will to see not only one but two daughters – or a sister, he hasn’t decided where Clarice fits in their family, he just knows that she does fit somewhere. 

Now Hannibal might never get the chance to have his family, how can he, when his Will abandoned him to start another family. Leaving Hannibal with just this; his half of their broken family. 

“See you later.”

He watches Clarice leave from the living area until he can no longer see her. He makes his way to the kitchen and nearly throws away the sandwich but stops at the last moment, deciding to at least try a little, if he doesn’t like it then he can toss it and make something else for himself. 

He sits at the table, shaking his head at the mess Clarice left behind for him to clean. The sandwich actually tastes so much better than he was hoping for; after the porridge slug he has been eating in the hospital, he’ll take anything at this point. 

Once he finishes eating he takes note of everything he would need to tell Chiyoh to buy. There is still time for the supermarket to open and he presumes that Chiyoh would be back once she gets everything because they will not be able to leave the house for quite a while. He tries not to think about the reason he is deciding to stay here instead of booking a flight to Cuba as he sends a quick text to Chiyoh of the list and sets to washing the dishes. 

Halfway through, Hannibal gets the unnerving feeling that someone is watching him. He tries to ignore it, but as when the doe becomes aware of the lion, he feels skittish. He turns the tap off and dries his hands on the washcloth. Feeling annoyed at himself for behaving this way, he walks out towards the little [dock](https://i.postimg.cc/KjY87f2d/2e97e6fb47095585da09ef56b12597f4.jpg) in the lake. ~~Ignoring the desire to stay inside where it’s safe~~.

Hannibal closes his eyes and breathes deeply, taking in the scent of the mud, pine trees, and murky water. Enjoying the freedom that seemed so impossible mere hours before. He never thought that a simple thing like walking for as long as he desires, whenever he wants, would cause a surge of emotions in him. 

Hannibal is never going back to that cage. Never again. Not even for Will. He will not degrade himself for that boy anymore. If Will wants to pretend that he can live without Hannibal then Hannibal will make sure that he doesn’t live at all. Hannibal is going to end this, one way or another, they can’t live this way any longer – he can’t live like this anymore. 

He sends a text to Clarice to find out about Will Graham’s whereabouts. 

A part of him – which sounds suspiciously like William – is trying to remind him that he can’t live without Will. It would be much easier to drown himself alive than watch Will die, but he shuts that part deep in his mind. Unconsciously letting some other shadows come through the gaps. 

_“Hanni! Look at the ducks.”_

Hannibal’s blood freezes in his veins when he hears the familiar voice of a child from his past. There – right in front of him, mere two steps away – sits a little girl with silky blonde hair, hands splashing the water in hopes to call the ‘ducks’ closer so she can pet them, unknowingly making them scare away. 

Hannibal blinks, again and again, waiting for the girl to disappear but when she doesn’t vanish, he reaches out with a shaking hand to touch her. Before he can make contact, a boy four years older than the girl walks up to his sister. 

_“Those are not ducks, Mischa, they’re swans.”_

Hannibal watches as both children throw bread to the lake where the invisible swans are supposed to be, giggling at the mess on their clothes. 

_Impossible._

Seeing William out of his mind palace is one thing, hallucinating his childhood memories is on a whole new level of fucked up. If he were not a doctor himself, he would suspect that _he_ now has encephalitis. 

How ironic that would be, Will would find it immensely funny. But since that is not the case, it means that the floor of his palace is threatening to crumble. If Hannibal’s mind palace collapses he doesn’t know what will come out of the rubble. He doesn't know how it will affect him.

\--

Clarice reads the text from Doctor Lecter as she parks her car at Quantico and puts the burner phone back in her bag. If Doctor Lecter is asking for Will Graham’s address it means that he plans on paying the man a visit, which is very fucking risky as everyone will be focused on the former profiler, knowing that the doctor would show up at his door eventually. Clarice can’t let that happen, surely Doctor Lecter realizes that it would be a suicide mission. Runaway prisoners are shot on sight, especially someone like Hannibal Lecter, and if Crawford is the one pulling the trigger – 

_No_. 

Doctor Lecter can’t go to Will Graham. The older man is clearly not in the right mind state, so the responsibility falls on her to keep him safe, even from himself. Of course, Clarice can’t actually ask him to stay tucked away where no one can reach him – even if that’s the most sensible thing to do. She’ll have to keep the doctor away from Will – at least for now – and she’ll do everything she can to make it happen. 

After all, she has a promise to keep. 

Clarice makes sure her recording device is on before she walks up to Jack Crawford’s office. She knocks and lets herself in. The whole team is cramped into the small office; Jack, Bryan Zeller, Jimmy Price, Frederick Chilton, their new crime scene investigator – and her boyfriend – Ryan Pitts. Ryan flashes her a smile and pulls a chair for her which she accepts with a muttered ‘thanks’. 

“Agent Starling,” Jack stopped pacing to address her, “you visited Hannibal Lecter yesterday.”

Even though it’s not really a question, because she makes sure to inform Jack every time she visits the good doctor, she still answers, “Yes.”

“Was there anything different about him? Did you see something, anything that was out of ordinary?”

Yes. She did see something different. She saw Doctor Lecter looking pale and thin like he had not been eating, she saw him looking lost and hallucinating that she was Alana. She saw a wedding invitation which was given to Doctor Lecter to emotionally torture him. She saw a lot of things yesterday, but she doesn’t say any of them. 

Instead, she replies, “I saw Doctor Chilton.” 

Frederick sputters in his chair and flaps his arms in the air to explain hurriedly that he was taking therapy sessions with Hannibal. 

“From what I heard, you were goadin’ Doctor Lecter.” She shoots back. She needs this conversation to move in a very specific direction without making it look like she knows more than she is telling them. 

“What was he talking about, Clarice,” Jack asks. 

She furrows her brows like she is thinking back to the interaction to remember before replying, “He was talkin’ about his new book ‘Hannibal the Cannibal’,” Jack throws an enraged look at Chilton, “and he was saying that Doctor Lecter was going to die in that cell.”

“That was not how the conversation went, I was just – ”

“Not a word out of your mouth Chilton! You have caused enough shit to last me a decade.” Everyone in the room – including Clarice – startles at the sudden shout from Jack. 

Everybody looks back at her expectantly to continue the conversation to redirect Jack’s attention before he could launch into a rant.

“He also said somethin’ about Doctor Lecter’s _friend_ , and how his _friend_ doesn’t care about Doctor Lecter.”

Jack makes a face between enraged and horrified, he fishes out his phone from his pants and calls someone. Clarice has a pretty good idea who he is calling; Will Graham. 

Jack walks out of the office to talk when the call is picked up, leaving the rest of them in awkward silence. Remembering that Clarice is not supposed to know – for them at least – what the whole commotion is about, she asks what’s going on. She is met with a glare from Chilton and grim silence from Bryan and Jimmy. 

It is Ryan that replies, “Hannibal Lecter escaped Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane.” 

Ryan says this unnecessarily slow as if she is going to faint with shock or something. He even looks ready to catch her too if that happens, more than happy to play the hero. Clarice tries to not be annoyed at the man’s persistent attempts to impress her. The only reason she is with Ryan is that she can’t just up and expect Ryan to jump in bed with her whenever she needs an alibi – Jack won’t fall for that trick twice – and Ryan is more of a relationship guy than casual fucking every now and then so she reluctantly accepted the proposal. Her other option was Bryan, and she wants to throw up at the thought of sleeping with that nerd. 

“When did this happen?” Clarice might also throw up at the clear adoration _oozing_ from Ryan when she talks in her New Orleans accent. She only talks without an accent in front of Doctor Lecter, he made fun of her accent once. She knows he didn’t mean to be rude but she is still kind of salty over it. 

“We’re not sure, they don’t have the footage.” 

“Clearly Lecter had help, someone messed with the recordings,” Brian says.

“Why didn’t nobody told me anythin’?”

Ryan – much to Clarice’s annoyance – leans towards her with a tender look and gives a tug on the silk scarf she tied around her neck to hide the bruises, “Didn’t want to worry you.”

She did a good job to cover the ugly purple bruises with the concealer but there’s no way she could have hidden the fingernail marks so she opted to wear a scarf over her simple white high-neck, half-sleeved t-shirt with straight jeans.

“I could’ve helped.”

“How can you help?” The question comes from Jack who enters the office again, gripping the phone in a death grip. She makes a mental note to ask later how the conversation went with Will Graham. The former agent is kind of her project now, she needs to be aware of his activities – to keep Doctor Lecter away from him. 

“I need to know everything you know and in the meantime, you should interview Doctor Chilton.”

Frederick stands up in anger making the chair screech on the floor. Apparently, the man has reached his limits as he asks, “Am I a suspect now? Why would I help Hannibal? I’m on his hit list!”

“We never implied that you helped Doctor Lecter, we just want to talk about your session with him.”

“Oh my God, it was not even my idea. Alana asked me to take therapy sessions with Hannibal!”

“Did she asked you to taunt him by mentionin’, Will Graham, too?” Clarice asks with a scoff. To anyone else, it would seem she was making fun of Chilton, but the man himself takes it as the lifeline it is and makes her work a little easier. 

“Yes! Oh god, yes she did. She specifically asked me to mention Will Graham as much as I could, she said it was part of his ‘therapy’. It was all her, Jack.”

_Bingo_. 

Clarice has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smirking. Everyone gawks at Chilton after hearing his admission. Ever since Alana Bloom married Margot Verger, there’s been all kinds of talk about her in the academy among her students. No one is stupid enough to believe her version of the night Doctor Lecter killed Mason Verger and his security, leaving both women alive. Everyone knows that the good doctor has a bone to pick with Alana. Even Freddie Lounds was smart enough to guess that Alana had made a deal with Hannibal Lecter, but no one said anything about it. Until now. 

Of course, Jack might not outright believe that Alana has something to do with Doctor Lecter’s escape but Clarice can implant a seed of doubt. 

“Where is Doctor Bloom?” Ryan asks. 

“She is on vacation with her family in Spain.” Jack replies, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I haven’t told Alana yet.”

Spain huh. It doesn’t exactly narrow down the list but at least she now has an idea where to look for Alana if Doctor Lecter decides to go after her. It would be better than going after Will Graham. 

“Don’t tell her until she comes back. Even if she is not involved with Lecter’s escape, she wouldn’t come back, and we need to know what she’s been up to. She won’t refuse to come back early if she really doesn’t know about Lecter.” Ryan suggests. Jack has known Ryan for long enough that he trusts Ryan’s judgment, so he agrees. 

“I want you all to head down to the BSHCI and interview guards and nurses on the shift,” Jack gestures to them, “Find me something to work with while I sort this mess with Kade and the media.” 

Jack gives them all a few more instructions and leaves. Ryan is more than happy to fill her in on how Chilton found the cell empty when he came to BSHCI in the morning. “All the doors were still locked and nobody saw anything amiss. From what Frederick is telling, it’s like the dude vanished into thin air.” 

Doctor Lecter would be so pleased to hear this whole conversation. 

Ryan and Clarice leave and drive to BSHCI together, Bryan and Jimmy follow in the other car. Clarice is actually nervous about going there so soon to interview the runaway patient that she helped breakout from the hospital mere hours before. Ryan takes her nervousness as fear of Hannibal Lecter. After all, she did spend a lot of time with the man and people expect the doctor to go on a killing spree after escaping the hospital. She is more than happy to let Ryan assume whatever the hell he wants. She dozes off for a bit, used to sleeping in cramped spaces. 

Ryan gently shakes her as they reach their destination. She takes the offered coffee gratefully as Ryan explains that he made a little detour to grab coffee and bagels for her. She really can’t hate the man when he does things like this. Clarice gives the man a well-deserved kiss before getting out of the car to enter the BSHCI. 

The FBI agents are swarming the security base at the hospital, Ryan walks up to Jimmy to get an update on what’s been going on while Clarice stands to the side, keeping an eye on the agents milling around, trying to determine if they found any evidence against them or not. 

“They couldn’t find any deleted footage. Whoever they were, they were really good.” 

Of course, they are fucking good. She paid a big fucking chunk of the money Doctor Lecter gave her to get that device. She had to admit that Chiyoh made a good call on getting it, otherwise they all would have had to leave the states before the news could spread about Doctor Lecter’s escape. 

Clarice joins Jimmy who is hunched over some files, visitor’s records from the look of it. Who the fuck keeps written logs nowadays – besides Doctor Lecter, of course. Her name stands out among the few visitors that came to meet the doctor. They spend nearly an hour before Clarice starts to feel a headache coming on by spending so much time without proper rest. She wants to go home but even if she could leave, she can’t. She has to be here until she is sure that they are not in any kind of danger. Seeing as they’re getting nowhere, she decided to give them a bone to snatch, “Where’s Barney?” 

“Who?” Jimmy asks. 

“The head orderly, Barney Matthews.”

“His shift ended at seven. We’re trying to get in contact with everyone who is not here, he should get here soon. Why?” Ryan replies.

“He is Doctor Lecter’s primary handler; you should find where he is.”

Ryan calls someone to get a hold of Barney while Clarice texts Chiyoh to confirm that she got rid of Barney's cell phone far away from Baltimore. Her reply comes instantly, telling her that the car and other stuff are disposed of. 

Leaving them to work, Clarice decides to take a tour down to Doctor Lecter’s cell. More agents are milling around, taking pictures and samples. She’s not worried about her fingerprints as she was there yesterday and the cell was not cleaned after her visit. She watches an agent take away Doctor Lecter’s sketches and she’s grateful that she took her sketch the day before. 

She lets her mind wander a bit as she stands there, thinking about how much information to give to the FBI. She obviously can’t give them much but she has to give just enough to keep her worth in Jack’s team. She’s so lost in thought that it took a minute for her to realize Ryan is waiting for her to ‘finish assessing the crime scene’. Jack is there as well, giving her a strange look. At first, Clarice used to get paranoid over it but Bryan and Jimmy told her that she reminds Jack of Will Graham. She hasn’t decided if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

“What do you see?” Jack asks, eyes fixed on her face. 

“I see nothin’. Hannibal Lecter didn’t leave a single piece of evidence at any of his crime scenes before unless he wanted you to find it.”

“And there is no evidence here,” Jack says, looking over the cell as if he’s going to find something just by a look.

“There isn’t,” she agrees, “but Doctor Lecter didn’t do this on his own. Someone from the inside was involved with him, someone who knew everythin’ they’d need to know to get him out. They knew when to break in, how to avoid guards. They had access to the keys.”

She let them digest this new information. It’s going to be more unnerving that someone from the inside was involved above everything else. 

“We have no contact with Barney Mathews. His girlfriend told us that he did not come home after his shift. We’re sending the police to check at the last known location where his phone was used.” Ryan adds, coming to stand beside her. 

Well, Barney’s fate was doomed the day he decided to help Clarice. Even if he was not dead, he would have had to remain in hiding for the rest of his life. So it’s not like he can complain if she is pushing him under the bus. 

“First Matthew Brown with Will Graham and now Barney Matthews with Hannibal Lecter,” Jack says while checking his phone with a tight expression, “I wonder how many more psychopaths Chilton hired.”

“Will and Hannibal even have same-named psycho-friends.” Jimmy snickers from where he’s overlooking all the things on the desk where Doctor Lecter used to sit. A flash of purple catches Clarice’s eye and she walks over to grab it. 

She pretends to read it for a minute as a plan forms in her head and then calls Jack and the guys over, “Who gave this to Doctor Lecter?”

Jack all but snatches the wedding invitation from her and swears loudly. Clarice knows that Alana gave the invitation to Doctor Lecter for her own amusement. Bet the bitch didn’t think she’ll have to answer to anyone, but Clarice will make sure that Alana Bloom pays for the pain she caused the doctor – and her. 

“Jack, get Alana here,” Ryan says with a tight expression.

“I asked the security head to call her, she would’ve gotten suspicious if I called her. She should be here tonight.”

After another few hours or so, they packed up the work at BSHCI for the day and got back to the academy to analyze the data they had collected. Their prime suspect at the moment is Barney Matthews, though they haven’t ruled out the possibility that he may be just an innocent victim. Interviews were more or less useless, no one had anything useful to say that might help them understand how Hannibal Lecter broke out of the hospital without anyone seeing anything. It also doesn’t help that they don’t have an exact timeline to work through. Jack is not pleased with the lack of evidence to work with, he keeps shouting at anyone stupid enough to approach him. Clarice takes a short break to get coffee for everyone. Once back, Clarice takes one cup for Jack to his office where she can hear the man bellowing at someone. She waits until the agent leaves the office before entering. 

Jack has his head in his hand, looking utterly exhausted. She passes the cup and sits down quietly. 

“Thanks, Clarice.”

“You’re goin’ to work yourself to a heart attack, Jack. What would I tell Alle?”

The man instantly relaxes at the mention of his lover. Clarice has met Allegra Pazzi a couple of times Jack invited all of them for dinner at his house. It was for his own benefit more than anything else, like the man was trying to get rid of the cloud of death his late wife, Phyllis Crawford, left in their house. Allegra is a very charming woman, easy to converse with, and with a strange motherly affection for Clarice for some reason. Clarice swears that she had no intention of ever getting close to Allegra but she’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“You won’t be able to tell her anything for a while, I sent her to Florence to her family as soon as I heard Hannibal broke out. I don’t want her to be here.”

Smart move. Doctor Lecter can’t go to Italy so it’s a good place to hide. Of course, Doctor Lecter can get to Allegra if he really wants but she’s not his focus. 

“Don’t worry, it’s the safest place she can be right now.”

“I know, I just wanted to be with her at a time like this,” Jack says with a soft smile before schooling his face and continues, “so what do you think happened?”

Clarice leans back in the chair, gathering her thoughts. Jack always asks her this question in private, where she can let her tongue run without thinking about any consequences – which honestly makes her more cautious. Jack doesn’t want Freddie Lounds to pick apart Clarice as she did with Will Graham. The red-headed woman wrote an article when Clarice solved her first case – and killed the guy – comparing the similarities between Will Graham and her. Everyone at the academy loves to compare Clarice with Mariam Lass and Will Graham, some even went as far as calling her ‘the new and better dressed Graham’. 

Jack on the other hand made her see a therapist – an FBI approved one – before letting her continue to work with him. 

“Alana’s absence seems a little too convenient. I mean, the woman didn’t take a leave for over a year and now she leaves for two days and Hannibal Lecter is out.”

“Maybe Hannibal needed her to leave and the security to lessen to get out.”

Jack is not contradicting Clarice; he’s merely leading her. He always encourages single-mindedness in his profilers, he wants them to get so tangled in the cases that they won’t be able to come out until the killer is behind the bars – or dead. Jack couldn’t do that with Will. Will was already standing on the edge of insanity, fighting against his own instincts. 

Clarice on the other hand has no such qualms. She lets Jack point her in whatever direction he wants and lets herself be the hound he had so desperately wanted, especially when it serves her purpose. At least, Jack is more careful with her and he respects her – a point she was sure to make clear she wouldn’t compromise on. 

“Maybe. But do you think that’s what happened?”

Clarice can’t mention the wedding invitation yet; it would seem a little too persistent. She’ll see how Alana is going to react to the news of Doctor Lecter’s escape before deciding how to pursue it. 

“No, I don’t think that's what happened.” He almost seem reluctant to say the words. 

Clarice nods. Well at least she got Jack thinking, he can figure out the rest later. After all, he’s the head of the BAU. 

“You should also get police protection for Mister Graham, Doctor Lecter will definitely pay him a visit.”

She doesn’t want to do this, she gets a distinct feeling like she’s betraying Doctor Lecter somehow but she doesn’t have any choice, he won’t listen to her and he’ll put himself in danger. She can’t let that happen. 

“I’ve already alerted the Grahams and put surveillance near their house. We’ll know if Lecter shows up.”

See, she knows what she’s doing. 

“What was Mister Graham’s reaction when you told him about Doctor Lecter’s escape?”

Jack shrugs, “He seemed shocked, but you never know with him. Nobody knows what’s going on in his head except himself.”

“Do you think he knows somethin’ about where Doctor Lecter might be?”

“If Will does, he doesn’t plan on telling us. I asked him to bring his family here but he outright refused,” Jack’s smile is more of a grimace than anything else, “His excuse was that his son has a baseball tournament in a few days that they can’t miss.”

Jack gives a humorless laugh, but Clarice is stuck on the new information she gained, “I didn’t know Will Graham has a child.”

“Neither did I until I heard about him today.”

If Graham’s son has a baseball tournament, it means that he’s old enough to not be Will’s biological son. She wonders what Doctor Lecter would think about that. 

They go back and forth over the case until the phone in Jack’s office rings. He picks it up and listens intently, his frown deepening with each passing second, “Yeah, alright. Good work, Zeller. Send Ryan there now.”

“Find anythin’?”

“Someone called the BSHCI to talk to Lecter yesterday. The orderly said it was his attorney, Brie Metcalfe.”

Clarice was hoping she had a day or two before that particular information came to light because Jack is going to throw a _fit_ when he will find that Doctor Lecter’s attorney has not called him since his incarceration but oh well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the good juicy stuff is coming, just let me stir shit up a bit ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'ed

The hallucination of his childhood memories made Hannibal realize that he is all alone in the middle of a forest with no one else for the company for miles. 

Hannibal has always liked the quiet, the self-imposed isolation even as he had surrounded himself with the company of people he daily thought of killing was never a bother for him. But that was before he met Will. In this regard, Will was correct, his difference between past and future comes from so many people; Mischa, Chiyoh, Murasaki, Clarice, Abigail. Each of them left their mark on his soul, but it was Will who possessed his entire being. 

Will is the monumental milestone of his entire life. The person he was before Will and after Will are completely different in nature. The person Hannibal was before would have pushed all these tortuous emotions in the far corner of his mind and dealt malignantly with the source of them and be done with it, but he is forever changed now, and he must experience this murderous rage and bone aching melancholy until he manages to get his hands on Will because he can’t banish these emotions in his mind palace. Which is another story altogether. He doesn't recognize the rooms he so painstakingly added to his palace anymore. The foyer which was once the Chapel in Palmero is now replaced with his office, where the beginning of his new life started with Will. He doesn't even understand what to make of this and how to solve this problem, or if he even can. Not just his memory palace problem but also Will. Hannibal is not that far gone in his rage to concede that his plan to kill Will is ineffectual in actuality. Will’s death - even by his hand, even after this betrayal - will break him. 

He doesn’t know what to do, and this uncertainty is going to be his unbecoming. 

Hannibal sighs and tilts his face up to the sky, letting the heat from the sun soak into his bones. Reminding him that he is not in the frozen land from his childhood. It helps to keep the past buried somewhat. As long as he is tethered to reality he can banish the memories to the dungeons where they belong in his crumbling mind palace. How ironic this is. He was once supposed to be Will’s tether but instead, he pushed Will until the boy learned to navigate the harsh waters of his life on his own. Who would have thought that one day, Hannibal would need something to keep himself from drifting? 

Hannibal tenses at hearing the crunching of footsteps approaching the house, but at seeing Chiyoh, he sags back on the bench before going to help her with the grocery bags. It takes a few trips between them to bring all of it to the house. He had thought about investing in a dolly to make it easier to bring stuff here but it would be useless unless he also makes a dirt path for it, which would ruin the purpose of hiding the house altogether. 

While Chiyoh goes upstairs to freshen up, he puts away the groceries in their places and begins making lunch. The lunch is a simple fair, he chops the vegetables until Chiyoh comes down to ask what she can do. Normally, he doesn't allow someone else to enter his kitchen while he is preparing a meal but declining means that Chiyoh would leave, and he is not eager to be alone right now so he instructs her to make the sauce. He spoons the pasta in two plates and tops it with the sliced avocado and coriander leaves. 

"Mexican penne with avocado," he announces as he takes a seat at the head of the table, while Chiyoh sits on his right. 

They both eat in silence, enjoying a good meal. It has been so long since Hannibal ate something he made with his own hands. Cooking has always been a passion for him, as well as a therapeutic process. At the end of the day, it was a calming activity that helped him untangle his thoughts. He is glad that at least cooking has not lost its appeal. 

"How have you been?" He asks Chiyoh once they have both eaten and retired to the sitting room. 

"I am well. It is good to see you out of the cage,” she says with a small smile. “What made you decide to leave now?"

That day near Will’s house when Hannibal decided to surrender, Chiyoh had asked him why he wanted to do that. His answer was simple then; because he wanted Will to come to him. But he doesn't have an answer to give her for his escape now. What is he supposed to say? How is he supposed to tell her that the love he had once worn like a crown was, in truth, shackles around his throat? Leaving him impotent and adrift. He gave that love his everything and now he has nothing left. 

"There was no purpose of me staying there anymore." 

A frown graces Chiyoh's face, unsure what to make of his response but doesn’t comment. She instead asks about Barney Matthews, “Where is the man?” 

“Mister Matthews reached the maximum capacity of his usage and has been disposed of accordingly.” 

Chiyoh nods and leaves to wash the dishes with a graceful bow. 

Hannibal doesn’t blame Chiyoh for not understanding him. Only a handful of people in this world possess the capability to understand him, but even they don’t really accept him. They all shy away when he shed his human veil. Except for Will.

Will knows what’s behind the veil, he didn't just took a peek, no, he ripped the veil and saw Hannibal in all his naked glory. And accepted him too. Will's seduction would not have worked otherwise. Hannibal was too busy preening under the attention of the boy like a bird for its mate to notice the shimmering smell of betrayal on Will. But despite whatever Will tells himself, the boy gave himself to Hannibal just as much as Hannibal gave himself to Will. He knows this just as he knows his own name. 

So where things went wrong for them? So much that he doesn’t even know where to begin with to gather them. 

Hannibal is not in the habit of regretting his choices, if he chooses to not do something it's because he has some plausible reason behind it. But he laments the choices he made regarding his boy. He wants to change things desperately. He wishes that he could reverse time and instead of leaving Will bleeding in his kitchen or surrendering to the FBI, Hannibal had run away with Will. 

Maybe Will would not have made it easier and Hannibal would have had to take Will by force. Maybe Will would have hated Hannibal for it and Hannibal would have destroyed the bond between them by doing that, and maybe, ultimately Hannibal would have had to kill Will in the end, but it would have been much preferable to a little time together than this eternal separation. 

All of these thoughts are meaningless. Hannibal knows, he can’t change anything no matter how many equations he tries to solve to reverse the time. Unless - 

Unless when he gets his hands on Will, instead of killing Will, he takes Will with him this time.

Hannibal can find whatever corner of the world Will is hiding in, slaughter his wife in front of his eyes and take him far away from the clutches of the FBI. Will can’t betray Hannibal or choose someone else if Hannibal doesn’t give him the courtesy of choosing. Will has proven time and time again that he is not capable of making choices that are better suitable for him. He has this vexatious habit of denying himself, drowned too deep in the ocean of rules society has set for him. Hannibal was successful in pulling the boy to the shore but the temptation to swim back and hoping to be accepted by the society will always be there for Will. And that is not something Hannibal can help Will with, he can be the catalyst of someone's becoming but the choice of rejecting the change and choosing death instead remains their own. 

But Will accepted the change when he sent Matthew Brown to kill Hannibal, when he had beaten Randall Tier to death with his bare hands, and when he decided to seduce Hannibal. 

The transformation to one’s higher self is a fragile process, one which Hannibal oversaw for Will with utmost dedication but unfortunately, he was not present for the aftermath. He never got to help Will spread his wings, never got the time to teach his boy how to fly. Will is frozen in a state of "was" and "is". Not entirely changed, not truly transformed. 

Maybe this is the cause of the problem. He left Will when he was at such a delicate point of his transformation. Untrusting and unwilling to show his belly to the bigger predator. Hannibal knows what he asked of Will - to kill Jack and run away with him - was a very big step. Hannibal admits that he was a little too excited over the prospect of having everything he has ever desired that he never stopped to think that he was rushing where he should have been patient. And the result of his greediness is in front of him; not only did Will betray him under the pressure but it also hindered Will's becoming. 

Hannibal vows; he will get his boy back and he'll make sure to see Will through his becoming. Maybe then, Will would finally see that he is Hannibal’s and no one in the world can understand and accept him completely like Hannibal. 

Yes, this course of action seems more preferable the more he thinks about it. With a course of action in mind, Hannibal feels more like himself. This part comes naturally to him, the planning before hunting his prey.

Hannibal knows that wherever Will is, Jack would keep an eye on him in hopes to catch Hannibal. Too bad for Jack that he plans on waiting for a while because he has to make proper arrangements before bringing Will here. His mind is in thousands of places at once, making a mental list of things he would need to furnish one of the guest's rooms for Will. 

The FBI would be over themselves to find him but he has a few places in mind where everything can be acquired with discretion for a reasonable price. Plus, a cover won't hurt either he supposes if it comes down to it. 

Just then, his cell phone chimes, alerting him of a text message. It’s from Clarice.

_//Couldn't find the address//_

Hannibal is not upset over this little hindrance. They have time and he has decided to send Chiyoh after Will, she will find where Will is. Her single-mindedness never failed her once in her life. He has a huge belief in her abilities. Clarice can do the job with a little more time too but he needs Clarice here with him. He needs to get her ready for Will. After all, he owns Will a daughter since he killed the last one. Clarice is going to play a vital role in securing Will to their family, she is going to do what Abigail failed to do. And for that, she needs to be perfect. 

Hannibal has influenced Clarice in a way that changed her personality to his liking and needs. Clarice is his perfect protégé, cruel and cunning, but Will wouldn’t want that for his child. He’d want to keep his child away from the darkness he struggles so much to resist. He’d want innocence, he’d want a charge to guide and protect. Like once Hannibal wanted to. But he won’t take the claws from his dear girl that he so painstakingly gave her. He’d have to find a perfect balance with Clarice to suit both Will’s and his needs. 

Oh, Hannibal can picture it; three of them living together as a family like they were supposed to before all the betrayal and bloodshed made a rift between them. Of course, it’s not going to be an easy feat, but this time, Hannibal is going to get what he wants. No matter what he has to do to achieve that. 

The only problem remains that Clarice is too involved with the FBI. He can’t make such drastic changes in her personality and expect to not bring attention to it. This is why he never wanted Clarice to work at the FBI in the first place. But now is not the time to lament, he has to make do with the cards he has been dealt with. The only safest way to get Clarice away from the FBI without raising suspicion is to give her a good enough reason to quit; like being the victim of the Chesapeake Ripper. It’s a good thing that he had kept all the props he needed for the Ripper scenes here in the shed. Let’s see if he can find something appropriate for his little bird.

\--

Jack enters Hannibal Lecter's office with the young Clarice following close behind. He nods to the armed officers in greeting. He asked for them to secure the building as soon as the call made to Hannibal at BSHCI was traced back here. A few agents, including Zeller and Price, are checking the office for evidence. 

The office looks so haunted by the cloth-covered furniture, so different from the time he used to spend here, seeking the company of a man who he considered a close friend. 

Jack had thought that he had seen the last of this place after Hannibal's trial but he has to show up here every few months because some freaks like to pay notoriety to a serial killer, or burglars looking for easy loot, unaware that the FBI has put a security system to alert them if someone tried to break here and that they have most of Lecter's things labeled as evidence and left to rot at a rented warehouse. 

But even with all of these measures, the security system has not been working since yesterday and nobody noticed a thing. Jack was a little too harsh on the guard in charge but he had to fire the man. He can't let this sort of sloppiness go unpunished, especially when it has caused a world of pain in his ass. 

Jack listens quietly as Brian explains how the unidentified caller had made the call. The caller used the telephone junction box at the back of the building to replug the wires to the phone in the office, and then connected the phone with a laptop, piggybacking the old lines, and used a call-spoofing software to show the caller ID of Mrs. Metcalf on the phone at the BSHCI, who had confirmed earlier that she had not contacted Hannibal since his incarceration. 

Jack was so livid that he was sure he would either have a stroke or he would punch someone. 

Jack watches Clarice climb up the ladder to the mezzanine, looking at the book titles and small animal statues with an unguarded curiosity. It's uncanny how much Clarice reminds him of Will. Their place of birth, their behavior, their preference for solitude, all are the same. If Jack didn't know better he would have thought that they are related in some way. The familiarity between Clarice and Will instead of bringing him any reassurance, unnerves him. Because he is reminded of the way he failed Will Graham and Miriam Lass by sending them against Hannibal Lecter, and how he is doing it again with Clarice. He is reminded of the interest Hannibal has in Clarice. 

Jack had regretted letting Clarice in Hannibal's cell as soon as she came out with tears in her eyes. But that didn't stop him from sending her back again and again, not when he was getting results. They caught eight killers till this day who Hannibal has treated in the past. Eight. The fucker was creating killers left and right like leaving bastard children. 

It was a risk to let Clarice not only talk to the master manipulator but also agree to his demand to allow Clarice inside the cell and give them privacy. He was desperate enough to agree to it. Risking her safety and state of mind. But still, Clarice has not changed a bit because of her sessions with Hannibal. Her therapist - an FBI certified one, thank you very much - assured him that her moorings are on solid ground and not standing on quicksand. 

Jack believes that she can stand against the formidable force that is Hannibal Lecter. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that this is the exact reason that Hannibal has taken so much interest in her. A challenge for him to accomplish. The stronger the person, the more viciously they break. Miriam, Will, Alana; take your pick. 

With Hannibal escaping, Jack is not only worried about the safety of his family and Will's family but also Clarice’s. Who knows what’s going through the cannibal's head. 

Jack doesn't need to be here at the Lecter’s office but he wanted to make sure that the media doesn't get a wind of this mess until Alana Bloom is back in the states - and he also kind of hopes to not have to deal with the leeches like Freddie Lounds. The reason they were not ambushed by the flashing cameras on the way here is that only a handful of people know about Hannibal's escape besides the hospital employees who he is sure are too scared to get on the FBI's wrong side that they won't say a word. 

"Alana just arrived at Quantico, I asked them to take her to the interrogation room," Ryan informs him. 

Jack is not sure what to make of Alana's involvement in all of this. The thought of her playing a hand in Hannibal's escape doesn't sit well with him, but Clarice is right; her vacation was at a little too convenient time. He can't rule out any possibility. Alana has told him about the promise Hannibal made to her when he asked about the reason for her accommodating the man in such a lavish cell. She didn't tell him what exactly was the deal she struck with Hannibal to survive the 'Muskrat Farm Massacre' - she fears that he will arrest her - but he can connect the dots on his own. 

Jack had let Alana keep Hannibal in a cage with his little toys, knowing that it would never be enough for the man. But he realizes his mistake now, he should have knocked some sense into Alana by reminding her who exactly she was dealing with. Hannibal is one lucky son of bitch, he not only managed to sleaze his way out of the death penalty, but he also manipulated Alana to get comfortable at the hospital and eventually - _theoretically_ \- used her to escape. 

Sure, Jack can be proved wrong about Alana, and he sincerely hopes that he does but the stacks are not in favor of Alana at the moment. 

Jack lets Ryan drive them back to Quantico, he spends the ride in silence, thinking how to proceed from here. As soon as they enter the building, Kade Purnell is on his ass. She is more worried about the reputation of the FBI than the fact that a cannibalistic serial killer is on a loss. She joins them in the interrogation room where Alana Bloom is waiting. Clarice and Ryan enter the room to question Alana while he and Kade watch from the two-way mirror. 

"Miss Starling, Mister Pitts. How are you doing?" Alana greets in a tense voice. 

Alana never approved of Clarice's meetings with Hannibal, thinking that Jack is offering fresh meat to the doctor for his purposes. Not untrue really, but people were dying and it's Jack’s job to stop that. He knew that Hannibal would clamp up if he showed up asking for help. He can just imagine what sort of things the man would have asked in return. It was a pain dealing with Alana until Jack pulled some strings to get approval for the meetings so Alana had to suck it up and let Clarice come and go whenever she needed. The younger woman is very particular about her work. She has woken Jack in the middle of the night for finding new clues in the cases so many times that he lost count. Must be karma for waking up Will back in the days. 

"Hello, Doctor Bloom," Clarice replies with a smile, "how was your vacation?"

"It was wonderful, until I was rudely called back." 

The last part is directed at the mirror where Alana knows he is watching. 

"So, are you going to tell me why I'm here or not?" Alana asks Ryan but he remains silent. This is not his forte, he has more of an aggressive strategy that works wonderfully in scaring the suspects into confessing. But ever since Clarice joined their ranks, Ryan has been thoughtful to let Clarice get enough feel of a person to form a profile before taking over. 

Jack had not approved of their relationship at the start. Not wanting them to ruin the bond between his team if they ever had a fallout, but Elle was kind enough to point out that the real reason for his disapproval is his protectiveness of the young agent. He was so gobsmacked at the sheer ridiculousness and strangeness of the situation that Elle has spent ten whole minutes laughing at him. Jack is not one for being overprotective but being with Elle has made him aware of his feelings in a way that he was never before. She is not tarnished by years of seeing death like him or his late wife, Bella. Elle is a pure angel. She has nothing but love to give and he loves her for it. She has taken a likeness to Clarice and maybe that's why he feels a _little_ paternal for the girl.

Jack doesn't need a psychiatrist to know that this intuition actually comes from the unfulfilled desire to have a child of his own. Bella and he never had the time to even consider the possibility of such a thing, they were both married to their work. By the time he realized that it was something he wanted, it was too late. It isn't late with Elle. She isn't a tough soul like Bella, she is a soft, sweet woman who wants to have everything with him, that in turn makes him put effort into not repeating the mistakes he made with Bella. He makes sure to get home on time, takes a vacation every few months, and have date nights at least once a month. Who would have thought that Jack Crawford would enjoy domestic life so much? 

But now, his wife is thousands of miles away from him and she will remain there until Hannibal Lecter is back in his cell or dead. Jack is going to do everything he has in his power to catch the bastard again - even if he has to resort to bringing Will back in the field kicking and screaming. He has a family to protect.

Clarice tilts her head at Alana's question. "I think you know exactly why Jack called you." 

Alana's collected demeanor wavers for a moment before she is again a picture of composure, but it is enough for Jack to see the fear in her eyes.

"I don't know what you're saying." 

Ryan scoffs, "Please, Doctor Bloom. We would appreciate it if you don't waste our time. We have access to your call records." 

A lie. They don't have permission to access someone's records unless they are a suspect. And Alana has yet to fall in that category. Officially, she is just brought here for questioning because of her status as the head administrator at the BSHCI. Jack didn't wanted to make any decision without any concrete evidence - he did that once and regrets it to this date. 

Unfortunately for Alana, she is not aware of this and panics. 

"Why am I being treated like a suspect!?"

"We’re not treating you like a suspect, we're just being thorough ." Clarice tries to reassure the woman without actually really trying to, she is deliberately letting Alana see her doubtfulness. A tactic Alana herself has used many times on other suspects when she worked for the FBI. But as expected, she doesn't realize it and digs a hole for herself unknowingly. 

"Just to be thorough? You made me return to the state without any evidence that I have any hand in Hann - " 

Alana cuts her sentence off as soon as she realizes her mistake and pales. 

"They're good," Kade says beside him and he nods in agreement. Too busy thinking about what Alana has done. 

Ryan smirks smugly while Clarice looks delighted.

"That's... that's not what I meant. I - " Alana stutters, clearly coming up short on how to recover from her fuck up, but his two hounds won't let her. 

"So you are aware of Hannibal Lecter's escape," it is not posed as a question because it isn't one. Ryan turns to the mirror window and says, "You should bring in whoever called her, he disobeyed a direct order of the FBI for not telling anything to Miss Bloom." 

"He didn't say anything to me!"

"Then how do you know, Doctor Bloom?" 

"I just know! Why else would you call me back like this!" 

Alana's voice has started to rise with Ryan's sharp questioning. She has always been prone to losing temper and shouting. Only she has shouted at Jack and lived to tell the tale, a trait that Jack secretly admired but now that same trait is going to get her in cuffs. 

The possibility of Alana helping Hannibal escape is not truly out of the realm of possibility really, but Jack had hoped that at least she won't be stupid enough to get caught. He knows how hypocritic he sounds because he would have been tempted to kill if it was someone else, but Alana was his friend long before Will and Hannibal were even a blip on his radar. He knew her when she was untouched by the darkness Hannibal forced into her. And even if she has fucked up big time, he doesn't want to see her life ruined. After all, he is aware of the influence Hannibal has on people around him. 

If it was up to Jack, he would have found a way to control the fallout from this, but unluckily for Alana, Kade is present. And she would gladly put Alana to stake if it means that her reputation would not take a hit. 

"We found Will Graham's wedding invitation in the cell. Why did you give Doctor Lecter that?"

"I didn't - "

"Doctor Bloom, you referred to yourself as a suspect mere seconds ago and confessed to knowing about Doctor Lecter’s escape somehow. It would be better for you if you don't lie anymore."

Alana closes her mouth at the unguarded anger in Clarice's voice. The sight is so unexpected even Jack is surprised. Clarice is not the one to lose her temper but it has the desired effect of letting Alana know that her bullshit won't work here. Alana nods to herself and composes her, deciding to cooperate wisely. 

"Go on," Ryan prompts. 

"It was part of Hannibal's therapy."

"Elaborate, please."

"Hannibal was refusing to take his therapy seriously. He refused to respond to anything his doctors said. He just spent all day sketching Will, I have thousands of his sketches in my office. He is too fixated on Will Graham. He believed that... that Will is his ‘friend’ and that Will would return one day for him and… and break him out of the hospital. So I thought that - "

Alana leaves the statement unfinished, looking down at her hands placed on the table. For all purposes, Alana just confessed to the role she played in Hannibal's escape; she told Hannibal that Will is married and not coming back ever and he decided to go to Will instead. Simple as that. A good story that might not save her job at the BSHCI, but it just might help her escape landing in a cell. 

Jack is aware that Alana’s story is too good. A little too rehearsed. She is hiding something and Jack is not sure if he should let Alana off the hook or let Kade deal with her. 

_What are you hiding Alana? What did you do?_

By the time Ryan and Clarice finish questioning Alana, the woman is in tears, begging for them to believe her that her intentions were innocent and she had no hand in Hannibal’s escape, but Kade won’t let this go so easily. And rightfully so, Alana provoked Hannibal and now she must face the consequences. By some miracle, he manages to convince kade to not jump to any rushed decision until they have some more proof. She agrees but puts Alana on house arrest, not that Alana is eager to leave. Who knows where Hannibal Lecter is and who he might go after. 

Jack settles in his office after sending Clarice and Ryan home, they are not needed here until they find any clue about where Hannibal is. There’s no point in keeping them all holed up there. 

Jack sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, thinking about what he should do next. He doesn’t know how to predict Hannibal’s next move, nor does he know how to get back the man who can predict Hannibal. He doesn’t know what to make of this whole mess. He doesn’t know who to trust, who not to. He can’t even believe that there’s a mole in the FBI. Who the fuck in their right mind would want to help someone like Hannibal Lecter? His suspicion falls to Barney Matthews, they still have no clue about the man’s whereabouts. 

Jack startles a bit as Jimmy and Brian rush into his office, shouting frantically over one another and not making a damn sense. 

“Both of you, zip it!” He bellows at them, which as always works like a charm. “Now talk, one by one, please.”

“Jack, it’s Hannibal. He took Clarice and Ryan!”

Jack freezes in his seat with a growing sense of dread. 

Jimmy places a tablet in front of him on the desk and plays a video when he didn't reach for it himself. It's the security feed from the parking lot. It’s dark. He didn’t realize how late it had gotten. Nothing happens for a minute before he sees Ryan and Clarice walking side by side to Clarice's car. A man in dark clothes rushes towards them and stabs something in Ryan's neck who stumbles a few steps before falling on the ground. There is no telltale sign of blood spray that would indicate that Ryan was stabbed with a knife. A syringe is a possible answer. 

Clarice is alerted by the commotion and she tries to fight off the man, but it's useless as the man grabs her in a chokehold and renders her unconscious too. Unlike with Ryan, the man doesn't let Clarice fall down, instead, he easily scoops her up and puts her in the back seat of her own car. The man then hauls Ryan in the trunk before turning his face towards the camera deliberately, letting the camera catch his face clearly. It’s Hannibal Lecter, as Jimmy said, and he has Clarice. With a growing sense of horror, Jack watches Hannibal drive off in the night with both of his agents. 

“When was this?” he manages to say. 

“About twenty-something minutes ago.”

“And you’re telling me this now!?”

“We came as soon as we knew about this.” 

Jack shakes his head and grabs his coat before rushing towards the elevator. “Alert the police and bring the Grahams here right now, Lecter would go after them next.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter took waaaaay too long it was an important one and I wanted this to be good, but my beta is busy, and idk when they'll be available so I decided to post it now and edit it later... sorry for all the mistakes, they are mine...
> 
> Anyways, did you know that [ironlotus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironlotus/pseuds/ironlotus) has created an 18+ server [ACOC](https://discord.gg/sJXpg9Dfvu) for fans to gush about hannigram? We brainstorm ideas, give prompts, play games, and share fics like there's no tomorrow. If that's not enough to entice you to join us, I'll let you know that we also have two Interactive stories going on where we choose how the story progresses! Come join our cult!


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